


In Cold Silence

by mhs0501



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Ending, Angst, Arendelle, Blood, Dark, Deals, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fear, Guilt, Infidelity, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, King Hans, Loss of Virginity, Lots of Abuse, M/M, Physical Abuse, Secret Relationship, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, So much angst, Suicide Attempt, Tags May Change, Torture, Trapped, Whipping, Worry, more to come - Freeform, off-screen sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:21:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4552200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhs0501/pseuds/mhs0501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Anna had never heard the scraping of Hans' sword? What if she never knew Elsa was there? What if she had gone to Kristoff, and not even known until it was too late?</p><p>All at once, her life changed with that kiss.</p><p>But for the better? It didn’t.</p><p>Dark AU ending to Frozen where Hans successfully kills Elsa and leaves Anna and Kristoff in his wake to abuse and rule over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Anna stumbled across the thick ice that made soft sounds beneath her boots, the view in front of her obstructed only by dots of white and the fading pink of her eyelids. She was cold to the point of death, the magic of her sister, the Ice Queen, spreading in frosty limbs that curled around her vital organs like the bony, needle thin fingers of the reaper; reminding her that she only had so much time to find Kristoff, and kiss him.

The princess wasn’t exactly sure where Kristoff was, but figured it was her best bet to just keep going, no matter how cold she was. Especially now that she was completely alone on the ice, her little companion Olaf having been blown off to who knew where by a telltale gust of wind. Anna felt the grip upon her heart strengthen and drain her strength to a dangerous low. She felt her knees begin to buckle, but held strong and called for the iceman once more, pleading to herself he would hear her through the freezing nips of wind.

Her hands drew close to her chest as the ice placed more pressure on her heart, the force determined to break Anna until she would fold. But for the headstrong princess, giving up wasn’t an option, despite her violent shivering and blue skin.

Anna, as she continued, drew upon the strength she had left to keep her legs moving in small shuffles, the harsh and unforgiving winds pushing her frail body in any which way it so happened to be blowing. The ice squeezed her heart again, this time, trails of ice forging their way across it like spreading frost crystals on a window. The pain pushed icy blood through her system and seemed to explode at the fingertips, the numbness leaving her extremities as the queens ice worked it’s magic. The princess felt this, and looked down at her hands to see the thin, white branches of ice blooming under her palm and fingers like a crocus flower. The telltale shapes of snowflakes beginning to shine upon her frostbitten hands and growing. Anna released a small whimper as the pain subsided, and pushed forth.

As a strong and cold gust passed by, the princess was pushed to the right, the force upon her weak body nearly sending her toppling to the freezing fjord’s icy surface. But, as if by magic, a voice called in the distance. It was a voice that she knew well. It was a soft and calming voice being forced into a rough and strong shout, it’s owner looking for her and only her through the call of her name. Anna couldn’t see it, but pushed in it’s direction in hope one may find the other.  

She responded the only way she could, and shouted Kristoff’s name with all the power the ailing young woman could muster, her throat cold and hoarse from shouting before.  

A final gust of icy winds shoved her forward to the cold surface of the frozen fjord, her body smacking into the ground with such force Anna wondered if she had broken a rib. Her white braids splayed before her as she struggled to stand once more, but couldn’t. The icy tendrils of Queen Elsa’s magic squeezed her once again, reminding her she couldn’t stand to meet her beloved, more matter how much she longed to.

But she didn’t have to.

All at once, the blaring of the icy winds subsided. The howling gusts ceased. Every individual flake of snow had stopped its endless descent upon the kingdom of Arendelle, and froze midair. The sky was still gray. The world was still white. And the silence persisted, except for one sound.

The sound of Kristoff, his shoes sliding across the clouded ice in great strides Anna would never have guessed he could do. The only dot of color in the world at that moment was her valiant, pungent reindeer king. Slowly but surely, as the ice gripped the princess in one final clasp of frost, the iceman’s features came into focus.

Everything about him was something she admired. His golden hair shining like the sun's rays. His brown eyes that shined with flecked with dots of honeyed amber whenever he laughed and smiled. The rosiness in his cheeks shining a brilliant red whenever he showed a hint of embarrassment or worry; like now, for instance. It was either that or the temperature. Or, as Anna correctly guessed, it was both.  

Despite the fact that she was on the ground and at her sisters mercy, Anna found herself crawling towards the ice cutter, her frostbitten hands grasping wildly at any imperfection in the ice to pull herself forward.

The ice crawled up the sides of her face, the branches of frost blocking the sounds from her ears. Only for her to hear Kristoff shout something to her. The word was muddled, but Anna knew he called out to her once more in shock and horror. Her vision began to haze over as she felt the cold whistle through her like steam from the lip of a kettle, the ice squeezing her heart a final time to extinguish the glow it held. It begin with a final surge of pain, Anna losing all sense for a split second as she released a strangled cry, her throat dry and hoarse in the arctic temperature. The pain began to spread, the thick coating of frost working through her muscles as her heart struggled to fight against the soul crushing cold. The frost settled to ice, and the ice stilled as the former continued to climb her body in many sporadic directions at once. The frost left her skin a milky white, the color becoming more vibrant so that it matched the candy blue irises the princess possessed. It grew from her chest to her waist and shoulders as Kristoff neared Anna. He was so close Anna could see the drops of frozen sweat on his cheeks and nose.

Anna’s eyelids began to close, the pinkness of her eyelids frosted and white. She felt the softness of the ice cutters leather gloves hoist her to his height, the ice climbing down to her waist as the feeling leaves her waist and shoulders. Her body limp as a ragdolls, Kristoff leans into her, her chin tilted to him as she prepared for the warm embrace of his soft lips to touch hers. To be saved. To live happily ever after.

Their lips touched just as the frost reached the bottom of her chin.

In an instant, the cold faded from her heart. The icy fingers weakened and its sharp grip slackened to a dull and exhausted hold until the warmth entered the princess once again, forcing the ice to defrost and dissipate completely, its quest to destroy her failed. Anna sucked in a laboured breath as the candy blue frost receded to her breast before dying out with a soft hissing sound that could just barely be heard over the pairs exhausted sighs. But it wasn’t just the frost that receded. Every remnant of Anna’s eternal curse; including the eternal white streak in the crown of her head, glowed a fiery ginger once again. The princess allowed the warmth of his kiss to linger within her, the pure joy of knowing it was true love excited her enough to what she wanted to be a laugh, but it came as a dull yet soft smile. Her thoughts were jumbled as it was the iceman who broke the kiss and held her still, his smile matching Anna’s as the glow faded from his cheeks ever so slightly, but enough to know that he was no longer worried. Worried for her.

The princess loved the sound of those words; for her. Anything that followed before didn’t matter. The moment was so perfect to the both of them. It seemed to last for hours. Finally, Kristoff brushed a strand of ginger hair from her face, and leaned in to kiss her once more when a sound came through the cold afternoon air that sent shivers down both of their spines.

It was loud, shrill. It cut through the silence like an executioner's blade through tender human flesh. The sound was mangled in the silence, a scream that Anna had never heard, but had a sick feeling to whom it belonged. The horrible noise lasted for what felt like minutes, but in truth was no longer than four seconds. Four, bone-chilling seconds.

It was coming from the distance, off in the piles of powdery white snow that surrounded a figure and a small lump of what the princess at first guessed was another drift of snow. But it wasn’t white. It was the same shade as the ice that once encased her chest and shoulders. It seemed to sparkle in the light that filtered through the grey clouds, the icy blue beginning to disappear beneath a color that made Anna give a dry heave at its sight. It was spreading across the shape of a human. But not just any human. A woman. The Ice Queen. The Queen of Arendelle. Her sister.

Elsa.  

All she could focus on was the sleek, straight blade that protruded from her back. The length not as far as Anna had thought, for the weapon seemed to curve towards the ground, its own weight forcing it to bend to the ice beneath it. All the while, the queen continued to breath, her crimson wound rising in slow, ragged breaths.    

The figure beside her give a small chuckle that echoed across the vast area, its very presence cold as the air around them. His auburn red hair was the brightest color among the overwhelmingly white backdrop; second only to the crimson red that oozed down the young womans back. The blood beginning to harden and crust as it landed on the thick ice, frozen. Like his heart.

Prince Hans stood over the fallen queen, his laughter in the face of such gruesome horror seemed mocking, if nothing else. Though he wasn’t facing Anna or Kristoff, it was clear to both of them the expression on his face. His eyes would be glowing, the green tint shining like emeralds. His mouth would be twisted into a sickeningly smug grin, his teeth hidden behind the curving in his lips. And he would contemplate as to what he would tell the dignitaries when the winter suddenly ceased; a lie no doubt. Just as he had been doing from the beginning.  

Anna knew that was how it would happen; and no matter how much she wished to pummel him until the caked dust on her library shelf would show envy, she couldn’t. Come to think of it, she couldn’t do anything at the moment. Her legs were frozen in shock. Her eyes broke their focus on the prince in the distance and settled on her sister, pleading silently that she would hold on; heal magically; freeze Hans into a block of ice; stand up and laugh, as if this were all some joke.

Anything. Anything at all.

She watched Elsa, her breath held in deep suspense to see her sister rise up and defeat the villain like the many valiant knights she’d contented herself to reading in her years of isolation. Her heart stirred with anticipation for a full minute as Elsa’s back continued to rise and fall in a steady motion. But after the minute passed, the movements became slower and more erratic, the queen shaking vividly as the prince watched, his arms now crossed; waiting. Anna waited as well, her teeth clenched as the movement slowed to a snail's pace, a series of low groans coming from the queen all the while. But finally, after the sound ceased, the movement ceased as well, and Elsa was still.

The princess stared, her mind attempting to kid herself as her sister didn’t move again. Hans smiled, the grin wicked and cruel at the woman's lack of movement. With a small chuckle, he whispered something indiscernible, and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword. The prince said something else, and gave the weapon a tug. Anna urged not to throw up as the sword refused to separate from the fallen queens back, the movement pulling Elsa up and down like a ragdoll.

She felt Kristoff’s hold on her tighten as the sword released from Elsa, the silver line caked in frozen blood as the body fell forward with a sickening sound. For a moment, her eyes flashed to the ice cutter, who looked a shade of green, his faced flushed pale as a Elsa’s snow.

In an instant, a loud sound came from beneath the pair that roared like one of the queens blizzards, the noise coming to a strict halt as the sound of cracking ice replaced it. Kristoff immediately seized up, the sound ringing in his ears as it always had. For him, cracking ice was as common as a papercut for a librarian. His instincts kicked in and he looked down at the ice they were standing on, knowing their combined weight would be dangerous with the ice melting.

He turned his eyes back to Anna, who looked at the cracking ice for what seemed like a full minute before she began to sniffle, bringing a still gloved hand to wipe her eyes as the blush returned to her cheeks. Kristoff bit his lip and frowned, understanding as well as Anna what the cracking ice meant.

But now, he couldn’t let that bother him. They were in danger, and he had sworn to himself he would protect Anna to the end. He hoped that the end wouldn’t be so soon as another loud crack came from below, the crack becoming visible as a hairline fracture an inch to their right. Hairline fractures weren’t dangerous, but knowing that its creator was gone, those cracks would only grow larger.

Anna’s mind raced, her legs frozen where they stood. Every thought she’d had in every day of her life came rushing past her, her memories returned to her mind. The evenings she and her big sister would spend in the castle's ballroom; skating, sledding, building snowmen. Things she would never get to do again. Olaf, the little snowman that was part of Elsa. He was gone too. Her palace, her memories; Anna was even feeling mournful for the snow monster that threw her and Kristoff from that palace.

Another crack in the ice, the sound tearing into her heart as she felt the pain become too much. She felt a salty tear roll down her cheek as she blinked to try and compose herself. Kristoff looked at her with his deep, sad brown eyes, the blush of worry having returned to his complexion.

“Anna.” He said softly, his tone stern nonetheless. It was hardly the time, he knew that. But he had to get them to safety before he could mourn.

“We have to go.” He remained calm despite the sickness in his stomach.

The princess blinked a tear away from her candy blue eyes, and nodded.    

The iceman held Anna by the shoulders and took her into his arms as he had when he carried her to the palace, her skin pale and cold. He remembered she’d asked if he’d be okay. Now he wished he knew. It all happened so fast. His mind drifted to Sven, the big reindeer that was his only companion and friend; he hoped the ice would split enough for the creature to swim.

At the moment his biggest worry was getting out of harms way. Another loud crack came from the ice, the section in front of him splitting down the center and drifting away. Kristoff looked behind him, the piece they were on moving back slowly; away from the shore.

Suddenly, he felt his legs give way as the thick chunk of ice he and Anna resided on cracked in half, sending him tumbling into the water with the princess yelping as he let go of her.

The water was always worse than the air; Kristoff reminded himself as the blinding cold snapped him to life and Anna sputtered in the icy water. Kristoff immediately tried to coax her to swim, the royal trying, but folding as she grabbed onto the iceman’s shoulders, Kristoff not minding at all as long as they got out of the water in time.

The needle pricks in his arms and legs grew more painful and numbing as he dog paddled through the freezing water, Anna clinging onto his back for dear life as she began to shiver. Kristoff could see the shoreline of the castle. They were going to make it. They would live.          

His boots found the squishy sand, the damp mud leaking into his shoes as he trudged on. Kristoff felt the water getting lower to the base of his chest as Anna suddenly tightened her grip around his neck and shoulders, her shivering slowing down as her body lifted from the icy water. The iceman felt the waves of the harbor lapping around his ankles as he stepped onto the shore, soaked to the bone, shivering ever so slightly, but alive. His harvesting uniform clung to his skin with frost and dribbling water, the cold air stinging against him with so much pain Kristoff fought the urge to drop Anna and run back into the water.

He felt the princesses grip slacken and release, and the ice cutter turned his head to make sure she hadn’t fallen. Anna stood tall, her dress wrinkled with ice in a similar manner to when he first saw her. Her gloved hands were even in the same position, dangling by her sides like two chains. The princesses red hair was damp, and beginning to freeze in place, both braids having fallen behind her.

“You alright?” He asked softly.

Anna nodded, the trailed of dried tears still visible down her blushing cheeks. Suddenly, her blue irises widened to a size Kristoff had never seen. He recognized that look immediately. Shock.

“Princess?” He focused on her eyes for a moment, hoping calling her title would gain some attention. When it didn’t, the iceman turned in the direction she was looking. He felt his jaw go slack, his eyes open wide, his legs seized up.

From the view of the shore, he saw a figure, and wondered for a moment if it could somehow be Hans, ready to kill them both. But as his gaze focused, he released a sigh. It was a castle guard, his tall hat and near toy-like appearance easy to notice as the man came closer.

Kristoff called out, his voice ringing in the shoreline. “The princess is here.” His tone was urgent, yet somewhat calm.

Anna, however, twisted her gaze, and put a hand on Kristoff’s shoulder, squeezing it tight. One guard never came down onto the beach alone. Her suspicions were answered as two more guards came into focus, then four, then six; the number growing bigger as the first guard gained on the pair. Kristoff’s face melted from slight relief to confusion. The princess heard him gulp.

Something told her this wasn’t a friendly party.

Her eyes widened as the number of men on the beach coming to them reached a full dozen, their nutcracker like uniforms crisp and clean as they all came into a row, and stopped. The guards were close enough to see the formation, but not a single feature on their twelve faces. The first one said an order to the group, and Kristoff heard it clearly.

“Crossbows ready!”

In a chorus of clicking and drawstrings, a dozen crossbows unhinged from the belts of the guards and were locked into position. Every one of them were on Kristoff. He muttered a curse.

Anna took a step forward, and recoiled her hand. Her eyes looked up at Kristoff and she slowly raised her arms up. The iceman slowly did the same, the sound of cracking came from his jacket as chunks of ice fell to the sand below.  

They were trapped.

“Kristoff,” Anna whispered. “Run.”

The iceman didn’t move.

Anna looked at him sternly. “Run.” She repeated.

Kristoff remained still.

“Step forward, and state your name.” The head guard called, his crossbow still drawn. Kristoff took three steps ahead, and did so. Anna thought she heard someone laugh. The guard ordered the iceman to lower his hands. He followed, his gloved hands lowered to his sides as the dozen guards lowered their bows. The silence was so thick you couldn’t cut it with a guillotine blade.

Then the guards came up to Kristoff, and grabbed his arms. Anna felt herself screaming out. Ordering them to let him go. But only a strangled cry came out. Words jammed in her throat as the iceman was forced to the sand, his hands held in place behind his back as the guards placed his wrists in a pair of iron cuffs that held tight to his limbs.

She felt tears running down her cheeks as two men pulled Kristoff up, and led him away to the steps of the castle, another coming up to Anna with a stern and unfeeling gaze.

“Come, princess. You need to get dry.” Was all he said.

Anna was silent as she stared ahead, the troop of guards still clustered around Kristoff growing smaller as they walked up the stone steps. She walked ahead, her dress plastered to her body as she moved, chunks of ice falling to the sand from said dress. She couldn’t feel anything, her shock was so deep.

 **  
**The princess tried to coax herself to move faster, for the sooner she got to the palace, the sooner they’d free Kristoff. And the sooner, the better.


	2. A Visit

The cell that Kristoff waited in was in the Arendelle castles middle section of dungeons. Reserved for what the iceman figured were people like him; destined to go before the council and witnesses of Arendelle for a hopefully speedy trial. What awaited him afterwards?

 

He’d had a while to think about it.

 

So here he was, leaned against the damp stone wall of his own little prison, his legs folded in an effort to stop the nervous shaking that plagued him since he was led and dropped by the royal guards in this room. He had been in the dungeons for a total of two days, not hearing anything from above him aside from the mundane chatting by the guards to the facility.

 

The prison itself wasn’t unbearable, Kristoff having been used to possessing very little in his lifetime that he didn’t either make himself or had been gifted to him by his adoptive family. It was tall enough for him to stand at his full height, but only so that if he hopped his hands would brush against the arched ceiling. The floor was mossy, like the Valley of the Living Rock, and there was a puddle that was fed from a steadily thawing drip in the right hand corner that stood as the only sound the iceman heard aside from his own breathing.

 

The guards that delivered his two square meals were stony faced and unsympathetic to his plight; which was more or less what he’d expected.

 

At the moment, the tin plate sat near empty by the door; save for a few dried peas that Kristoff never managed to finish, his appetite drained from the anxiety of his fate. Water in the cell was provided by guards along with those meals, but the iceman preferred to simply set the drained cup underneath the leak in the ceiling when he needed some form of silence.

 

There wasn’t much to do in the room he was given, granted prisoners weren’t supposed to enjoy themselves. But Kristoff didn’t need much. He never had.

 

One thing he would’ve requested was a room with a bigger window, so that he could fascinate himself staring out at the summer sky and its numerous constellations taught to him by Grand Pabbie. But the thought hadn’t occurred to him until after the sun had set, and he realized just how dim everything seemed.

 

Though he wasn’t a pessimist, the way things were going to his knowledge, would only grow dimmer.

 

The Queen of Arendelle was now dead. Anna was going to be Queen. But Hans;

 

He was going to be King.

 

The thought of those words made Kristoff shiver despite the humidity in his cell. Though he was the last person expected to be knowledgeable about a monarchy, his common sense told him that married, Anna would have as much power as he would. Hans’ power though; seemed limitless.

 

Suddenly, the door to the cell opened, and the tin plate was removed by the hand of a guard that remained invisible behind the solid wooden door. The plate made no sound as it disappeared into the crack of light that streamed from the opening, only for the silence to be disrupted by the scraping of metal as a full plate was nudged into the empty ones place, a few of the dried peas dropping from the rim of the platter and rolling into the mossy grooves of the stone floor. Kristoff took a deep breath, and pushed himself from the wall, his legs untied as he walked over to his nightly meal. His eyes closed for a split second as he expected the door to shut, and leave him in silence once more.

 

But the door didn’t close.

 

The iceman sighed and figured the guard was going to deliver a message to him. Some kind of statement; a court notice perhaps. He stood still in the center of the room, his arms crossed and waiting.

 

But the voice never began. Instead he heard the sound of boots shifting around on the stone floors. The creaking of his door, opening wider as light from a torch spilled in, the sudden brightness causing Kristoff to bring a hand to cover his eyes.

 

Through the corner of his vision, he saw a gloved hand creep around the side of the door, the appendage covered in the thick felt of a guards glove. But the fabric was loose, almost in a comical sense. No hand he had seen was ever that small.

 

Unless…

 

He lowered his hand to get a full view of the intruder. She had a heart shaped face, freckles, large ice blue eyes, and fiery, near ginger hair that was pinned into two braids that hung loosely over her shoulders. Her lips were curved in a small smile that suggested silent happiness.

 

Anna.

 

The princess regent of Arendelle stood not five feet from him, a basket tucked under her free arm.

 

“Hi.” She said softly, setting the torch on a long empty holster, the room suddenly brightening to a warm glow.

 

“You’re here.” Was the first thing out of Kristoff’s mouth, and he subconsciously scolded himself for stumbling over a proper greeting.

 

“Yeah. I guess I am.” Anna smiled at him and took a step forward before turning away from the iceman and giving the door to his cell a hard shove so that it closed, leaving Kristoff alone with her.

 

He felt a wave of sickness crash into him, wondering just why Anna was here; what she was doing, what was in the basket, where Hans thought she was, all of these questions made him feel so lightheaded he nearly toppled over.

 

“Why?”

 

Anna turned to face the iceman, her cheeks glowing in the torchlight as she untucked a basket made of fine wicker with a thick cloth wrapped over the opening, the smile growing wider.

 

“Because I want to be.”

 

With that, she set the basket down, and walked closer to Kristoff, the iceman instantly straightening his weary posture. She was less than a foot from his chest when her smile turned to confusion.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Kristoff didn’t have an answer, and pushed the bile from his throat, reminding himself that he was in the presence of not just royalty; but Anna.

 

“I’m sorry princess. I’m just nervous.” He responded, his tone thick with obedience.

 

“Princess?” Anna almost laughed. “What happened to you Kristoff?”

 

 _If only I knew_ ; Kristoff said to himself.

 

“Just, what’s been happening… to you, to me, to-” He stopped himself from saying Elsa.

 

“Kristoff,” Anna began, her voice the same, stern tone that she used when she tried to sound regal and serious; but to Kristoff, he just smiled at her adorable attempt.

 

“I came to see you to forget all that’s-” Her voice suddenly cracked.

 

“Happened?” Kristoff offered.             

 

A moment of silence passed, the only sound the small crackling of the torch.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Now please,” Anna began once again, her tone more relaxed. “No more formalities. I’m just Anna to you unless I say otherwise. Deal?” She looked up at the iceman, her eyes shining.

 

“Deal.”

 

Kristoff suddenly felt like a weight had been lifted from his enormous shoulders. He exhaled, Anna having sat down on the floor before Kristoff could offer her a milking stool that he had yet to make use of.

 

“I figured I’d bring you some decent food. No doubt you’re sick of dried beef strips and peas by now.” Anna’s eyes shifted to the basket, her legs crossed.

 

Kristoff stood in  front of the princess, his legs having suddenly gone numb. He wasn’t sick of the food, but who was he to refuse the offer?

 

“What did you bring?” He asked before getting down on his knees, the thin fabric of the prison garments grinding into the floor.

 

“Let’s see;” Anna bent over to the basket and shifted it closer to them, Kristoff only just realizing how large it was.

 

She peeled the cloth back and a wave of steam wafted up from beneath, as well as many heavenly aromas that made the icemans mouth damp with saliva.

 

“I brought some fischsuppe,” Anna lifted a silver tureen from its container.

 

“Some rolls,” She lifted a cloth bundle that unfolded to reveal several golden buns.

 

“And… two cherry tarts for dessert.” She removed a crystal platter that was covered with a topper that matched. Anna set this to the side, and pulled two bowls and cups from the seemingly bottomless meal, as well as napkins and a peculiar shaped silver dish filled with what Kristoff recognized as sugar.

 

She set up the placings like a royal would, peering down and straightening it once or twice as Kristoff stared in amazement, never having seen such luxurious food in all his life. At least, not all at once.

 

As Anna served the soup, the iceman noticed she was spooning ladleful after ladleful into his own bowl, leaving little for herself. He didn’t need the extra food, but at the moment, his hunger and nothing else controlled his thoughts.

 

They ate for a while, Anna insisting on giving Kristoff her share of the rolls despite his initial protests.

 

Finally, conversation resumed between the two after the tureen was empty and the rolls were simply crumbs that rested on the folds of the napkins. The princess then revealed a pot of tea, and poured a full cup for both Kristoff and herself before spooning sugar from the elegant dish and stirring it in with her spoon.

 

“How’s Sven?” Kristoff found himself asking Anna as he watched her stir her sugar in for a moment, her eyes focusing on the motion made by the tea.

 

She stopped and looked up at the iceman. “He turned up yesterday out by the gates. I brought him to the stables.” She took the spoon out of her tea and set it to the side.

 

“Is he okay?” Kristoff pressed, unsure if she was telling him the truth from the uncertainty that had surfaced in her ice blue eyes.

 

“Yes.”

 

Anna could understand Kristoff’s worries.

 

Sven had been, up until the Great Freeze, Kristoff’s only friend and companion. Not knowing how Sven had escaped the freezing waters, Anna saw a reindeer outside the castle gates, snurfing around the cobblestone bridge as if looking for his owner. She immediately recognized Sven, and went outside with some carrots in hand. It took all of ten minutes to coax the friendly creature into a pen in the royal stables.

 

Thankfully, at least to Anna’s knowledge, Hans had yet to know of Sven’s existence or his connection to Kristoff. The princess hoped to keep it that way.

 

The uncertainty wasn’t for Sven however. It was for his owner.

 

Kristoff had not officially met the thirteenth prince of the Southern Isles, but thanks to Anna, Hans knew plenty about him.

 

In her protest after Kristoff was led to the dungeons, she learned it had been conspired among the dignitaries that a man was trying to drown the princess of Arendelle, and such claims were completely viable in the royal court with such little information on the day of the Great Thaw.

 

This information didn’t dissuade Anna from protesting however, much to Hans’ irritation.

 

She tried her best to say that Kristoff was a decent man to Hans, the current head power of the kingdom. But his indifferent glare at the princess made it seem more and more likely that the prince was convinced Kristoff was a threat to his reign and fiance than anything else.

 

Nevertheless, he had replied after Anna was stopped that he would attempt to clear ‘the iceman’ of his crimes. But after being lied to by Hans before, Anna’s gleeful naiveness had melted away into nothingness, and she’d had a sinking feeling in her stomach at her fiance's claim.  

 

But in her heart, she hoped Kristoff could at least go free.

 

“It’s just that-” Anna stopped. She couldn’t say what she was afraid of.

 

Not to Kristoff.

 

Not to anyone.

 

There was no one left to trust.

 

But Anna found herself lost in his eyes; those amber brown eyes. Those same eyes that now cast a glow of prevalent anguish and concern. Concern for her. In an instant she wanted to tell this man everything. Anything to make that look go away. That look of pain. The dull glow of rose in his cheeks.

 

The princess wanted to tell him the troubles, the sorrows, the misgivings she had suffered and now worried with certainty that those same troubles, sorrows, and misgivings would be shared with him.

 

That she was sorry. Sorry for running into him, getting him involved in her life until his own life became merely an extension for a cruel man to use for his own pleasure and greed.    

 

Her guilt had frozen in her eyes. Anna felt the unmeasurable amount of pain and sadness rocket around within her until she felt vertigo from staring into Kristoff’s eyes.

 

Anna blinked, and felt tears gathering in her eyelashes as the overwhelming sense of melancholy boiled over, her cheeks flushing red. A choked sob erupted from her, and she buried her face in her knees, not able to bear the sight of the unfortunate man in front of her.  

 

Kristoff immediately crawled around the picnic, and sat next to her, his warmth pressing into the princess's body as he attempted to comfort Anna by wrapping a broad arm around her shoulder and holding her close.

 

She lifted her face from her knees and threw her arms around the iceman, burrowing into his large shoulder and inhaling deeply. Her nose took in the scent of pine, dirt, the general ruggedness that he possessed. It was so comforting to Anna she almost laughed.

 

With this, Kristoff focused his gaze on Anna, patting her gently on her frail back and letting her sobs be muffled by his shirt sleeve. Something felt familiar to Kristoff. He felt a form of instinct come in and he began to stroke Anna’s strawberry blonde hair, humming a tune that resembled a lullaby.   

 

It was nothing the princess recognized, but she felt the tears drying as Kristoff continued to soothe her sadness with his voice that felt smooth and calm; like a gentle glen buried deep in the fjord.

  
It was then that Anna realized just how much she loved Kristoff.


	3. Plans

Prince Hans stood silent in the throne room of the Arendelle Castle, a firm frown spreading across his face. He turned his head towards the swinging pendulum of a grandmother clock that read the current time. 8:30, the hands indicated on the dot.

 

A mental note ran through the man's mind to have the mechanic check the gears to see if they were moving more slowly; as if just to irritate him further.

 

See took a breath and released, folding his arms in a crossed position and began practicing the glare he would no doubt be giving Anna when she returned. Hans found himself tapping his gloved fingers along the bicep of his arm in a rhythmic motion, as if the anger was already leaking past his defences.

 

The prince took another deep breath and found his gaze settling on the wall clock once more.

 

The hands had moved ahead by a full minute. Which meant another minute had passed over the time Anna had claimed she’d return, but had yet to make her presence known in any way.

 

She’d claimed to be riding in the fjord. But Hans knew she wasn’t.

 

He wasn’t the only one to have lied.

 

Hans found some comfort in this, but not enough to erase his scowl.

 

Moonlight now filtered in through the throne rooms many arched windows, the carving and engraving on the wooden frames so delicate and beautiful Hans was reminded for a moment of the Ice Palace he and the guards had stumbled upon when hunting down the Queen.

 

His thoughts drifted back to the day she had died, the day the winter ended. Elsa had been more than an annoyance for Hans since she was captured; the farthest trouble she’d granted destroying a cell in the dungeon. But in the end, it didn’t matter. She would’ve died anyway with the sentence of high treason.

 

That sentence was downgraded to witchcraft, for which the death would have been far more painful and long; had he not taken care of the matter when he did.

 

His biggest annoyance at the moment, was Anna.

His current fiance was a source of irritation that didn’t seem to have an end in sight, the princess casting hateful glares and threatening him in many ways. All of which, were not carried out or listened to; for that matter.

 

The princess showed the same feisty side to her that Hans had come to admire in their initial courtship and prompt engagement, but with the way things had turned out, that feisty side couldn’t have been more bothersome.

 

The prince had never expected Anna to survive his plan, her heart being frozen to the point of death. But somehow, she had managed to find some way to break the spell and live; much to Hans’ initial dismay.

 

But knowing the options were limited, it was obvious what had unfolded. And Hans loved it.

 

This iceman that Anna had been saved by was a mere pawn to him, but he was nonetheless valuable.

 

He was something the prince could, and would, take advantage of.

 

It was all a matter of finding his strengths and weaknesses.

 

If Hans did this correctly, both Anna and Kristoff would be putty in his hands.

 

There was no doubt to the prince that he could do it better than any one of his older brothers.

 

Hans found himself grinning, and allowed it for the moment.

 

But that grin faded when he heard rushed footsteps; boots, clapping into the hardwood parquet. Along with that, there was panting, as if the owner of those boots was in a desperate hurry. Hans sighed, and felt his face falling back into a scowl as princess Anna turned the corner of the hall into the throne room.

 

She came to a dead stop when she saw Hans, her face flushing white as snow.

 

Hans tilted his head upward ever so slightly; almost as if he was looking down on Anna. He was waiting for an explanation.

 

“So glad to see you, Anna.” Was the first thing out of his mouth, his tone light.

 

She didn’t move.

 

“I don’t suppose you see the time?”

 

She remained still.

 

“I’m waiting.” Hans’ voice became cold at his fiance’s lack of response.

 

The princess gulped, and took a step forward as if it boosted her confidence ever so slightly.

 

“I was out riding.” Her voice came out small and weak. It was barely audible in the large baronial room.

 

Hans narrowed his eyes, the emerald green irises darkening with his gaze focused on the princess. The prince took a brisk stride from the dais up to the princess, who seemed to shrink back as he came close.

 

When he was less than a foot from Anna, Hans swore he heard the smallest sound, a whimper, escape from her. She was standing straight, but her head was tilted towards the floor in an almost dog-like manner.

 

“Is that so?” He glared down at her.

 

“Y-yes.”

 

Stuttering.

 

Hans relaxed his hands and brought his right hand to the girls chin, trailing up it softly to tilt her face upwards. So she could look him in the eye and say it again.

 

“What was that, Anna?” He continued, his voice still cold, but smooth as the silk her wore. His left hand slowly coiled around her wrist, stopping her from escaping until he received his answer.

 

She nodded, her blue eyes cast to the floor.

 

“I’d prefer,” Hans felt his grip in the girl tighten as he voice tensed for a moment. “A verbal answer.” His tone relaxed.

 

The prince looked deeply into his fiance’s eyes, the dark glare digging into Anna’s reserve. He heard her take a deep breath through her nose before she answered.

 

“Yes.”

 

Hans continued to look down at Anna, his glare softening for a moment as he dropped his hand from her chin, and recoiled from her wrist.She released the deep breath into a contented sigh. But that was the nail in the coffin.

 

His hand had slapped against her cheek before he could register it happening.

 

“Wrong answer.”

 

For a moment, it looked like she would cry.

 

But she didn’t.

 

She opened her mouth to say something, but Hans quickly shushed her.

 

“Whatever you say next;” He began with a threatening tone. “had better be the truth.”

 

Anna answer came after a seemingly long silence.

 

“I was visiting.” It came out with a hint of fear, and was soft like her last lie.

 

“Visiting whom?”

 

She didn’t respond immediately, and Hans drew his hand back in preparation. Anna cringed with terror, her words stuttered as they left her lips like she was shivering.

 

“K-K-Kristoff!”

 

She closed her eyes and waiting for the prince to strike her, but when nothing happened, she opened her eyes and blinked. Hans lowered his gloved hand, his eyes still dark. Brooding, angry.

 

Anna felt her stomach rolling like the waves in the harbor.

 

Hans continued to look at Anna with what she could only describe as shock; however dull. The prince raised his hand, and Anna backed away, gripping the paneling of the wall for dear life. But the hand pressed into Hans’ face, massaging his eyelids.

 

“Go.”

 

Anna didn’t need to be told twice.

 

Hans turned on his boot heel and began the long walk down to the dungeons.

 

_______________________________________________________________________

 

The stroll through the damp halls of the castles dungeon was something Hans was barely accustomed to, only having been down as low as he was once, and that was to plead with the former queen to end the winter that had plagued the kingdom for only three days.

 

But now that his plight was over, he hadn’t set foot into the prison since. He’d never had a real reason to unless he wished to. Kristoff hadn’t exactly been a horrible prisoner.

 

His finger clasped around a torch the guard had supplied him with, prince Hans continued down the steps to the middle section of the dungeon, a section that was below ground for the most part, with a small barred window facing the fjord in each cell.

 

His gaze stayed still as he ignored the sounds of scurrying rats and the scent of mildew.  

 

He found the cell; the only cell, that was occupied at the moment. A small orange glow came from below the door hinted at it’s sole prisoner.

 

No sound came from within the room aside from the light scraping of silverware against the tin plate. The noise ceased as the prince came closer to the door.

 

Hans figured there was no need to knock.

     

Pushing the door open, Hans got an eyeful of the prisoner. A hint of recognition washed over him, but Hans pushed this feeling down as he stepped into the room, and set the torch in the holster beside the door that wasn’t occupied with what was no doubt a tribute from Anna’s visit, the wood smouldering as the torch began to die.

 

Kristoff sat on the milking stool, bathed in the light of the moon as he hunched over something. His back was turned to face the right hand wall, the column of light best accessible from that vantage point, it seemed.

 

Instinctively, the prince's hand clasped around the hilt of his sword.

 

“You don’t need that, you know.”

 

Hans narrowed his eyes, the iceman having spoken.

 

“How can I be sure?”

 

“If I’d wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t be here,” Kristoff gestured to the spot he was in. “I’d be behind the door.”

 

The prince instinctively shot a glance to the area by the door, as if the ice cutter had suddenly moved to that spot.

 

“So, what are you doing here?”

 

Hans’ eyes drifted to the shape the iceman was holding, and saw the glint of a carving knife flash at him.

 

“I’ve been notified of your little visitor.” His tone was sly, but icy.

 

Silence followed as the prince observed Kristoff’s eyes widen, the amber brown shining in the golden glow of the torches flame. Recognition, shock, it could’ve been anything. But Hans recognized a hint of something else that he craved and fed.

 

Fear.

 

“And?” The ice cutters voice cracked ever so slightly.

 

Hans flashed a smile.

 

“You should be more careful in the future iceman. A royal and a commoner have no place together.” His smile faded to a smug grin.    

 

At this, Hans saw the ice cutter working his jaw, like he was chewing on something. Thinking of something.

 

“And yet you still allowed Anna to-”

 

The blow to his face was harder than a rock.

 

“Princess Anna,” Hans sneered as Kristoff almost toppled over, but didn’t.

 

“Princess, Anna,” The iceman breathed, clasping a hand to his nose as he corrected himself.

 

“You still let her visit.” He finished as the large hand began massaging the bruise that welled on his cheek.

 

“That was without my knowledge.”

 

“Bull.” Kristoff shot back.

 

Hans resisted the temptation to punch him again. “You knew, or you wouldn’t be down here.” The iceman glared up at his warden.

 

“Perhaps I did. But you know exactly what you are to me.”

 

Kristoff lowered his glare to the door ahead of him, and nodded.

 

“Step out of line and your blood will drip down these walls.” Hans growled.

 

The prisoner remained silent, cupping his chin in one hand and gripping the carving knife in the other.

 

Hans began to turn when his foot brushed against something. The sound of wood clattered and echoed as it rolled along the grooved cobblestone floor. The prince bent slightly, and retrieved the object.

 

The rough effigy of a snowman smiled up at him.

 

The prince ground his teeth and squeezed the sculpture, wishing to crush it with all the strength he could muster. Hans knew it was futile, but did so anyhow. The small remainder of winter gave him a weak stomach.

 

Kristoff chuckled.

 

“What,” Hans growled. “Is so funny?” His hand lifted the sword from its hilt.

 

“Well,” The iceman lowered his hand from the bruise. “I was going to ask for it back.” His voice seemed to cut out, as if there was more he wished to say but remained silent.

 

Hans pitched the wooden sculpture back at Kristoff, wishing it would do damage. But the iceman caught it with one hand nimbly as though he had been practicing catching it for the two days he was in that prison.  

 

Outside, the prince growled with a firm frown.

 

But inside, Hans grinned. He knew exactly what he could do should he desire it. Hans’ mind wandered to Kristoff. His weaknesses. His promise to Anna to free the iceman had meant something despite her doubts.

 

But now?

 

Now, the prince had a different idea in mind.

 

With a small chuckle, one barely audible, Hans slipped out of the dungeon, closing the door. And as he did, he felt a frown from Kristoff. Hans felt the ice cutters eyes widen. His carving knife clattered to the floor. The prisoner thrust himself at the door, pounding on it with both closed fists as he realized just what Hans was planning.

 

“You can’t! You hear me you bastard, you can’t!”

 

Kristoff’s insults and shouts echoed through the dungeon as the prince savored his prisoners anger. It would be a good night to rest.

  
He had much to do in the morning.


	4. Dreams and Nightmares

She was running, running across the ice. The princess gripped her chest in terror and pain as cold bloomed within her, frost encasing the bodice of her dress and corset. White dots blinked in her vision as icy wind stung her rosy cheeks, the cold taking its toll on her frail body as her running slowed to a walk. Anna pushed on though. She had to. The pain she felt didn’t matter. Not when she still had a chance.

 

Her legs carried her forward as a familiar scene began to appear ahead of her. Two figures and a snow drift, laid out on the ice in silence as she grew nearer. The figures became familiar, taking the shape of a man and a woman. Anna felt a wave of sickness pass over her as she pushed forward, seeing the danger her older sister faced.

 

Elsa was slumped on the ground, crying, as Hans raised a sword over her in position to strike and kill.

 

The princess felt a rush of adrenaline, pushing her, wanting her to go faster. But as she got closer, things began to change.

 

The silver in the queen's braid grew more vibrant, golden almost, frost dimming the shining color. It shortened to crop around her head. The ice blue dress darkened to a grey. It became more rugged, worn, as the figure became more bulky and big. It wasn’t Elsa slumped before her now.

 

It was Kristoff.  

 

The snow drift had changed too. Instead of being pure white, it was taking the form of an animal.

 

Sven’s brown fur glistened with caked and frozen blood, the spots of red hardening on the ice. A sword protruded from the creatures back, its large brown eyes rolled back in its head.

 

Hans still stood, leaning over the fallen man with a smirk that made Anna want to gag. She was desperate to continue, to try and reach the ice cutter. Her legs moved, one step after another, as she got closer.

 

Her breath slowed and left her as another sword suddenly appeared in the prince’s grip, a cruel and maniacal laugh erupting as the weapon swung down, and entered the mountain man's back with the sickening sound of slicing flesh as a choked breath surfaced from Kristoff. Anna felt herself weeping, the tears freezing in small drops before they could even leave her eyes.

 

Frost began to inch up her as she began to freeze, the ice growing and crystallizing within her as Hans turned his head to face Anna. She flinched, but found she couldn’t move.

 

He came close, and whispered something into her ear.

 

“Oh Anna, if only there was somebody out there who loved you.”

 

And then her vision went black.

 

_______________________________________________________________________

 

“Anna dear?”

 

Her eyes blinked, the tears muddling her vision as a fuzzy silhouette leaned over her and made its presence known. Its voice was distinctly female; somewhat matronly.

 

“Elsa?”

 

The figure came into focus, a pudgy and round face, her dark hair braided in a bun that was hidden beneath a green bonnet.

 

“No dear,” Gerda seemed to trail off, her voice had a distinct cracking to it, as if she was on the verge of crying herself.

 

Anna blinked, tears starting a slow decent down her cheeks as she realized Elsa was dead. Not that she hadn’t known anyway. Hope still resided in her.

 

But Gerda was still company.

 

“I’m sorry Gerda. It’s just-”

 

“I know dear.” Gerda cut her off, her eyes falling to the floor as Anna sat up and rubbed her eyes.

 

“What is it?” Anna found herself looking out her window at the harbor, as if it were daytime. Instead, the lanterns of fishing vessels cast a golden glow along the shoreline in the starry night.

 

“I just was strolling by and heard sounds from your bedroom. Figured I should check on you.” The maid shrugged.

 

Anna found herself smiling. Gerda and Kai, the head servants of the Arendelle castle, took to personally seeing every detail which the royals often overlooked in their schedule. In a way, they seemed like family to Anna, especially after her parents untimely deaths at sea.

 

It was Gerda who broke the news to Anna the day it was concluded they had drowned, and helped the princess through the grieving process with plenty rich broths and heartfelt words. Kai had the job of doing the same to Elsa, but he handled it with all the grace and kindness a father would, despite Elsa’s terror and icy reaction.

 

In their more private moments, Anna found herself confiding in the old maid when she felt strongly enough on the matter. In recent weeks though, she was silent. This worried Kai and Gerda more than anyone, the pair used to seeing the bright doey eyes and small dimples in her freckled cheeks.

 

“Thank you, I just had a nightmare that’s all.”

 

Anna felt her hands drawing up to her braids, which had begun to undo themselves as they always did in her comatose-like sleep.

 

Gerda nodded, and motioned to a tray that sat on a side table across the room.

 

“Well then,” She stood up and walked over to the tray. “I figured you’d want some tea. Why don’t you tell me about this dream? I’ve got time.” Gerda poured two cups and added the customary two sugars Anna always took.

 

Anna bit her lip, not sure if she could tell anyone. But a look at the kindly woman told her that Gerda was the best thing she had right now. Who better?

 

The maid sat down on the side of the bed and handed Anna her tea, only for the princess to realize she had yet to change out of her attire, with the exception of the red satin cloak that always made her wonder if the seamstress had accidentally sewed one of the dining halls curtains by accident. The cloak was tossed loosely over the vanity chair, the bright color hardly visible in the soft light of the lit candelabras.

 

Anna sighed, and began to speak.

 

“So it was on the day of the thawing… you know, when-” Her voice seized up as a lump welled in her throat. Gerda patted her on the back softly and nodded.

 

Anna took a gulp of her tea and continued.

 

“Hans; he was over Elsa, with a sword ready to kill her. I was stumbling through the ice. I saw him swing the sword.”

 

Gerda nodded, her eyes alight with silent fear that a child would experience going into a dark closet.

 

“But as I got closer… it changed. The snow drift was a reindeer; his reindeer.”

 

Gerda raised her eyebrows puzzled, and Anna realized she had never spoken of Kristoff to anyone aside from her fiance.

 

“Kristoff; the prisoner.” She responded and the puzzled look melted away.

 

“But Kristoff was there; sobbing; this reindeer was his best friend, my best friend;” Anna paused and wished she could explain it better.

 

“And then Hans killed him.”

 

Gerda brought a hand to her mouth. Anna paused but the woman nodded to continue.

 

“But then Hans came up to me; and said those words…” She trailed off.

 

“What words dear?” Gerda broke her silence.

 

Anna took a breath and knotted her hands after setting the teacup down. “Oh Anna, if only there was somebody out there who loved you.”

 

The silence hung in the air for a long time.

 

“You don’t love him do you?”

 

Anna felt nothing at this question. A week ago a flat out denial would’ve been the response. But things had changed; many things.

 

Now, Anna felt anything but love for her ‘prince charming’.

 

“No.” Anna sighed. “But we can’t break this agreement. I can’t. I want to but I can’t.” Anna felt a rush of anger and an urge to pummel Hans.

 

 _Just where was that courage when I needed it_ , Anna asked herself.

 

“Well why not?” Gerda’s voice suddenly became stern, as if she were an eight year old girl asking why she couldn’t have her doll fixed at cheap.

 

Anna gulped, and shook her head.

 

“I can’t. He’s threatened me enough already. I can’t say no, even if I want to.” She wished she didn’t have to explain her feelings to Gerda for a moment, wishing she could leave the matter for her to handle.

 

“Threatened you?” Gerda’s eyes flashed ever so slightly.

 

“With worse. I can’t though.”

 

“Can’t what?”

 

“Fight back!” Anna snapped, gripping her crown of strawberry blonde hair and tugging at it with all her anger, the pain not even registering from the blinding rage.

 

Gerda stilled, the anger and sternness replaced with silence.

 

Anna took a deep breath, and started again.

 

“I can’t fight back because there’s too much to lose. He knows; Hans knows; about Kristoff, about everything. About us kissing, about us and our journey, Gerda,” Anna’s eyes darkened for a moment.

 

“If I fight back, Kristoff will die.”

 

_______________________________________________________________________

 

“Prince Hans?”

 

The royal heard a voice from the other end of his guest room door, his mind distracted for the the moment from the thick and worn novel he was reading.

“Yes? Who is it?” Hans found his response ringing with annoyance. It had been such a wonderful evening, what with his book going so well. That little Red Riding Hood, trusting strangers only to be eaten alive by a wolf.

 

A fate well deserved, Hans figured and almost chuckled at the irony.   

 

“It’s Kai, head servant.” The responded with no change in tone. “May I come in?”

 

“Yes, enter. If the matter is that important.” Hans rolled his eyes and set the book carelessly on the floor, the binding folding in wrinkles from the position.

 

The door opened and he saw an aging man with a rather unfortunately large nose. His nutmeg brown hair was balding, leaving a ring around his head with hints of grey at the roots. He had a fairly round belly that suggested decent nourishment. His evergreen uniform glowed slightly in the light of the candle he was holding.

 

“Now,” Hans began and stood. “What is the matter that requires my attention at such a late hour?” His eyes drifted to the clock on the fireplaces mantle, the time 10:30 and far too late for him to be up unless he was bored.

 

“The matter in question is the imprisonment of Sir Kristoff-”

 

“Refrain from titles; the man is hardly deserving of any.” Hans growled.

 

“The imprisonment of Kristoff Bjorgman.” Kai continued, and set the candle to rest on a side table.

 

“What about it servant?”

 

Kai seemed slightly taken aback at the word servant, but his tone remained warm.

 

“I wished to discuss the matter because his trial is scheduled for next week.”

 

The prince raised an eyebrow in skepticism, as if not having heard the elderly servant correctly. “And this is suddenly so important that it involves interrupting me?”

 

“I suppose not. I simply wished to check the date of the trial so there may be time to select the jury.”

 

Kai turned to leave, but what Hans replied with stopped him in his tracks.

 

“You assume that a matter of attempted regicide is worthy of being judged by mere commoners?” Hans almost laughed at the apparent audacity of the servants words.

 

Silence followed as Kai sighed.

 

“Your majesty with all do respect, Kristoff Bjorgman has yet to have been viably charged of anything.” The man's voice seemed to tighten like the gears of an old machine.

 

“Attempted regicide is something for the council to witness, not the bias of a jury that will no doubt side with their own.” Hans raised his voice ever so slightly, his gaze falling on a painting that hung above the mantel.

 

“Your majesty, in the Southern Isles capital punishment may be more common. But while residing in Arendelle; you must obey our laws and customs.”

 

Hans stared.

 

“Regardless of your title.” Kai finished with a huff.

 

The young prince rose to his full height, which was an inch taller in the boots he’d kept on. His gaze darkened.

 

“You listen to me, servant.” Hans’ voice was cold and icy. “I don’t give a damn about your government that was instituted by a homicidal ice sorceress. At the moment I am the highest power in this kingdom. My engagement to Anna entitles me all the power of a regent. You may have your disagreements about my nature. But regardless of your feelings the council will be deciding the icemans fate along with witness testimony from princess Anna, myself, and the dukes of who believed they saw him attempting murder. Do you understand me?”

 

Kai scowled up at him.

 

He nodded.

 

Hans felt the anger leave him.

 

“Yes prince Hans.” Kai responded, the warm tone replaced with a begrudging and icy tone that matched Hans’ in a near startling manner. The door slammed, and Hans was alone once more to continue his story.

  
“All the better to kill him with, my dear.” Hans gave a dark chuckle and shut the book.


	5. A Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, I haven't updated this fic in forever. I just haven't been feeling angsty lately. Oh well, I hope you all enjoy!

Anna sat on the small stool in front of her vanity, the mirror reflecting exactly what she was trying to hide from the world. The tea cups from the morning and evening before sat on the tray to her right, drained in record time despite the fact that the princess was anything but hungry. The meager amount of bread with jams was hardly that compared to what it could’ve been, but it sat untouched. She simply couldn’t eat. 

 

Gerda had always told her tea could soothe someone, to keep them calm. Anna would’ve had no joy in turning away her handmaidens insistent offers even if she’d silently gulped every drop while in actually, it felt as if it were going nowhere. She hardly had a reason or desire to eat, and she would’ve cared if there was in fact a reason to. The princess tried to keep telling herself to stay optimistic, to do something worthwhile. Anything that would be better than simply remaining at her vanity like the bag of bones she was often treated as. But with every thought and hope came a bigger reminder that she was in far over her head and trapped between a rock and the cold, dreary wallpaper of the palace. 

 

With that feeling of depression also came with the realization that she and everything she cared about was more or less destroyed. It was a heavy burden that was forced onto her shoulders and her coronation was still two weeks away. As was her wedding. 

 

Needless to say, she wasn’t looking forward to it.

 

She was to be queen of Arendelle. It was a jarring sentence to even speak aloud. She was the spare, the princess, the one with no training or sense of responsibility to be accounted for. She wasn’t good with numbers, she couldn’t stomach the infinitely long meetings, and Anna herself hardly prided herself in her judgement of character. There was a nagging voice that rung in the back of her skull like it had crawled out of the deepest recesses of her greatest fears that sounded painfully like her fiance. 

 

_ You can’t do it. _ He would say.  _ You’re as weak as your sister. _

 

She loathed that voice unconditionally; and the fact that it sounded like her malicious fiance made her all the more afraid of it. The princess couldn’t bear that voice as she sat on the flat stool, her reflection failing her as she struggled to look away from the naive little child whose fault this entire nightmare was. 

 

_ You’ll run this kingdom into the ground, _ It seemed to cackle at her.  _ And in the end, you’ll join your sister. _

 

That alone was a comforting thought that Anna very nearly relished. She was weak, she knew that. Hans held her tight to the line he’d reeled her in with. She would’ve given anything to have someone there with her that moment to chase the darkness of her failures away, to take hold of the situation and remind her who she really was. Elsa surely would’ve had this situation under control, and Anna couldn’t help but gaze at the gleam of the jam knife all too eagerly.

 

_ It would look an accident, _ that damned voice said.  _ It would be over quickly. _

 

Her hand drifted to the knife, clammy finger curling around the polished silver of the gilded handle. Its distorted reflection showed her only the lithe shell of the girl who wasn’t fit to run a kingdom, one who didn’t deserve the happiness of a new day. She didn’t feel the pangs of hunger that attempted to remind her she had priorities. Anna threw the warnings and distant sounds of her dying common sense away. The cold sting of the sharp edge dug into the freckled flesh of her wrist. She could barely see the tinge of scarlet blood from beneath the layer of salty tears. 

 

_ It would look like an accident. _ Something within her warned. She attempted to ignore the words that had stuck to her skin like barbs. She felt tears gliding down her cheeks as the muscle in her thumb tightened, pushing the blade deeper, even deeper. 

 

_ It would look like an accident.  _ The voice gained a familiar, female tone that caused the strawberry blonde to seize up, the sting of the jam knife dulling. 

 

_ It’s just what he would want . _ Sobbing breaths rocked her chest as she felt the knife pull away. 

 

_ Don’t make his job any easier. _

 

The clatter of the bloody suicide weapon clattered to the mauve carpet of her floor, her eyes glazing over as she let herself cry again, a splitting pain echoing in her head as her dehydration seemed to catch up with her. The voices in her head quickly died as Anna struggled to come to grips with what she’d just done.

 

She gasped painful breaths that constricted her chest, her white teeth gritted in pain as she let her arms go limp. Drops of blood became less frequent as she chided herself. The princess tried to calm herself down, nervous of the ears within the walls. A servant perhaps could’ve heard her; or worse, her fiance. 

 

After a moment, weak concentration tugged at her every fiber. She held up the still bleeding wound of her stupidity as she only cried harder. 

 

She couldn’t give in to that voice that told her to lose hope. She couldn’t let her confidence waver, not when she needed it so. Not when her kingdom needed her so. She might have been just a spare, but she was to be queen. That was a burden she’d have to face, otherwise she’d never have a chance to free herself,  Kristoff, or her subjects. What would her parents think of her groveling and committing such heinous acts? What would Elsa have thought? How could the princess ever think that harming herself would solve any problems? There had to be another way that didn’t involve crying in the corner and accepting defeat. They would be loyal to her, not Hans. He may have saved them during her sisters winter, but she was the heir. He would only be king consort. She would be queen. She could actually beat him.

 

Shivers of confidence forced her to her feet when there was a knock as the door. Her hand closed around the sleeve of her nightgown and she bound it around the injury, hoping she could could render it discreet. Given, she wasn’t exactly presentable looking, but a bloody wound certainly wouldn’t help matters. 

 

As she opened the door to her room, she fought to immediately slam it closed once more as her worst nightmare was standing less than a foot from her, his eyes soulless and dark as if he no longer possessed one. Her hands froze where they were on the door, refusing to obey her quivering commands as any confidence she’d built up was obliterated in the face of the man she’d once wholeheartedly defended. 

 

“Hello, Princess Anna.” His tone was sly, and Anna desperately wished she would see the gleam of the dagger he probably had behind his back as she attempted to keep her eyes in her head where they belonged.  

 

“Hans.” She countered as her gaze drifted to the floor. She forced herself to lift it back up. Hans was smiling, and she her knees nearly buckled at the sight of such confidence she’d had only seconds before. She wished for something, anything to break the terribly wicked silence. 

 

_ Look at you, _ the voice jeered again.  _ afraid of everything. What a pathetic weakling you are.  _

 

Well, she had wished for anything. 

 

“I see you’re a bit pale,” Hans remarked as she felt him pass by her, the door open without her even realizing it. “You surely aren’t sick, are you?” 

 

“Sick?” She echoed weakly. “No, of-of course not.” She felt herself stammering again. 

 

“Good. Wouldn’t want to take the chance of missing the traitors trail.” He strolled over to the cloudy, grey light that spilled through the gabled window, the diamond frame casting shadows along his deathly pale features and giving an ungodly terrible shine to the auburn red of his hair. 

 

Anna blinked away the tears while she could. “Kristoff.” She reminded him. The princess could tell Hans rolled his eyes. 

 

“Yes, the ice cutter. Fortunately you won’t need to worry about him for too much longer.” The tone of his voice made her stomach do multiple flips. She felt anger bubbling beneath the pale, almost sickly skin. 

 

“I don’t think so.” She struggled to focus her anger. Hans turned to face her. 

 

“Really?” His brow raised. “And what, may I ask brought to such a ridiculous conclusion?” 

 

Anna sucked in a mute breath. “That I rode up and back the North Mountain in his care. I’ve told you before, Hans,” She felt her anger escaping in small places as she struggled to keep hold of it all. It still found its way to her voice, and her teeth gritted. “I believe he did nothing warranting of a scolding, much less a death sentence.”

 

Hans seemed the tiniest bit surprised, but it was quickly shrouded in a thick curtain of contempt. “What makes you so sure I’m going to kill him?” 

 

There was an infinite amount of horror that crossed her flushed face, the voice striking back with every possible horrible scenario that could unfold if Hans decided to let Kristoff live. There was torture, there was abuse, there was taking everything from him until he was simply a shell of the calloused and grumpy man he once was. Anna had been the cause of everything terrible happening to him. There was a pound of guilt for every pound of flesh, and the princess was so sickened by the thought she very nearly threw up. 

 

“Something tells me you will.” She managed to reply, her tone weak for only a second before strengthening. “You did it to another innocent, and I don’t see why Kristoff will be any different.” 

 

Both of them knew who that ‘innocent’ was, but Hans wasn’t bothered. If anything, he looked on her with pride. What came out of his mouth next made Anna take two steps forward, gaining carpeted territory. 

 

“Innocent?” He laughed. “Your sister was about as innocent as I was. She abandoned her kingdom, caused a massive natural disaster, nearly plunged her country into complete social and economic ruin.” He listed off every supposed yet truthful atrocity. “And worst of all she committed treason, by attempting to murder you. If you call her innocent, you’re sure to be a riot at the trial.” 

 

Anna struggled to keep the fleeting remains of her composure as she squeezed the bind in her sleeve, blood bunching in the buttercream yellow fabric. “She didn’t mean any of what she did, and you know it. We both know it.” 

 

“But the dignitaries don’t know it. The people don’t know it, and they all most certainly won’t know it.” He grinned at her deviously. “And even you’re not stupid enough to risk anything. Not when another man’s life hangs precariously in the balance.” 

 

His gaze drifted to the bloody knot of silk by her arm. They glazed over with a confidence so thick and vain Anna doubted he’d lose it even if she were to pummel him with her one good hand and anything else she could break over his perfectly coiffed head.     

 

“Besides,” He remarked as Anna’s face flushed whiter than the former queens best snow. “You’re obviously not fit to stand trial. You’re too fragile, too weak.” His voice seemed to merge with the nagging one in Anna’s head.

 

“You don’t know me, Hans.” She looked at him steely. 

 

“You’re right. I don’t.” He replied nonchalantly. “But I do know what a self-inflicted wound looks like, princess. Believe me. I’ve seen and been through plenty.” 

 

Anna shook her head. “I’m over it all now.” 

 

He scoffed with a dark chuckle. “Of course you’re not. You forget Anna, twelve siblings, the weight of expectation.” He strolled towards her as the princess struggled to to back away, her confidence waning and making her almost top-heavy. “It’s enough to drive a person to the darkest parts of their mind, and you’ve only just begun that journey.”

 

“I said I’m through it.” She growled, her eyes flashing dangerously for a split second. Hans leaned in until she could see her own trembling reflection in the empty green of his eyes. There was the tiniest bit of a confident smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She felt her confidence drain out of her in that moment, only a few dregs remaining where she’d attempted to keep it safe. 

 

“No.” His gloved fingers laced beneath her jaw and chin. “You’re not.” 

 

_ He’s right. _ The voice seemed to cheer.  _ You’re not over it, deary. _

 

The footfalls of his black boots echoed in her ears as the thirteenth prince began to make his exit from her room, the words ringing in her head with the scent of shoe polish making her dizzy. Anna felt herself turning around. She felt herself blinking. She heard his distant words as they left his mouth. 

 

_ “I’ll be sure to tell the head servant you won’t be attending the trial.”  _

 

Her own bare feet burned against the carpet as she felt herself sprinting, Hans ‘ gloved hand wrapping around the handle of her to in preparation to finish his manipulation. Anna couldn't let him do this, not when she’d been so close to stopping him. She couldn’t let him have this victory, not with all she’d let him take so far.

 

“Wait.” Her voice was brimming with urgency that she’d forgotten how to use. Her fiance stopped, and turned to look at her. The radiance of his confident smile made her jittery. 

 

“Something the matter, love?” 

 

The word of affection stung, but Anna attempted to ignore it, a freckled hand running through her hair in anguish. She looked to him again, her hands clutched in thin, brittle fists. “I want to propose a deal.” 

 

“A deal?” Hans echoed as an eyebrow raised in slight suspicion.

 

“Yes.” She gulped a bit. “A deal.” Anna confirmed with a nod. 

 

He looked intrigued. “Do continue.” He folded his gloved hands behind his back. 

 

She closed her eyes for a moment as if contemplating what her next move could be. A deal was certainly worthy of attention, and something told her should she be queen, there were sacrifices to be made for the sake of every citizen, and that included Kristoff. 

 

“I want to promise you something in exchange for the prisoner’s life.” She began as a lump welled up in the back of her throat, her body cringing at the thought of what she was about to do. Her parents, Elsa, would’ve been thoroughly shocked and would’ve quickly disapproved. It was a sin. It felt wrong. It was something she could never get back but it was the only bargaining chip she possessed that could be given save for her right to the throne. She tried to chide herself into believing that it was only a small step, a small sacrifice. But the princess couldn’t stomach even the thought of it, her fear and disappointment were so great. 

 

There had to be another way. Surely she couldn’t sacrifice something so pure, so sacred. But as evil as Hans was, he was a man. Men were always driven by their urges, or so her mother had once told her. The  ring had once given her strength. She’d neglected to even give it thought. It now sat somewhere deep beneath the piles of decent jewelry, but Anna knew she would’ve felt much less guilt and grief over her next few movements had she been wearing it. It was a meager protection, but she would’ve been more than grateful. It had to be done.

 

“My virginity.” She finished. Anna felt herself becoming lightheaded with those two simple words. They bared so much significance that there was absolutely nothing else that could’ve made this any worse. 

 

The hungry gleam in the prince's eye made every inch of her skin crawl. He obviously had desires, and wanted to fulfill them right now. But even so, Anna couldn’t let him get any further in this disgusting deal. She held a powerful hand and wasn’t about to let it go to waste. His cold hands were reaching around to her when she managed to take a step back. 

 

Hans stared coldly at her as he placed a finger on his lips. “Tonight.” She tacked on one crucial detail of the agreement. “After the last light in the castle goes out, I’ll give you my virginity. In exchange for Kristoff’s life.”

 

For a painfully long moment, Anna feared the many outcomes that could’ve stemmed from her words and terms; none of which were in her best interests. Hans gazed at her wearily, her eyes still dark and cold as the frosty air of the outside. He could say yes, and agree to take her to bed. He could say no, and Kristoff would be as good as dead. Or, the worst possible response, he could simply ignore her terms and take what he wanted right then and there. It was willingly open. 

 

Why he didn’t do so, Anna never truly knew. For a moment, she saw the young gleam of the handsome prince she’d become so infatuated with. For a moment, she could see the man who had put on a brilliant show. But it was quickly forgotten. Hans had simply nodded, and left her to do what she wished. Her hands brushed over the bloodstained silk of her nightgowns sleeve, a symbol of her ultimate fear that was quickly replaced by something far more terrifying.

 

But with a calming breath she knew she had won for a moment. After all, it was only noon. And she had twelve hours to ensure Hans wouldn’t receive the ultimate symbol of her maidenhood and strength. The greatest thing was, she knew exactly what to do.

 

* * *

Kristoff awoke from his mid afternoon attempt at sleep when he heard something over the minor chitter of sewer mice and dripping of the leak in his cell. It was soft, timid, and obviously trying not to be heard. From nearly a week of time in the dankness of his prison, he knew the guards were out training at this hour. He was the only occupant at the moment, so he hardly saw fault in them leaving. It wasn’t as if he could’ve somehow magically broken out of there even if he possessed such a desire. 

 

Anna mattered too much to him to simply abandon her, and Sven was still under the princes radar. Escaping would do him about as much good as the plague. 

 

The noise of footsteps quickly grew louder, and Kristoff stretched and got up in case there was something to be brought to his attention from a guard; something about his trial, perhaps. But he felt a twinge of hope that he somehow knew who was there. 

 

He wasn’t disappointed when he smelled the sweet scent of soap and lavender, but was a bit worried when he saw the look of terror behind her eyes. He knew that look and knew she was afraid. He’d offered her all the comfort he couldn’t spare for himself, and prepared for her to attempt a normal conversation as she had the last time. He wasn’t even sure why she was here now, and figured that was as good a place to start as any.

 

“Anna,” He began with a tiniest chuckle. “What are you doing here?” 

 

She frowned a bit at him, the fiery glow of the torch only magnifying the dangerously full blue eyes as a single tear leaked from the eyelid. She remained silent as she set the torch in its holster. 

 

“What did he do?” He questioned as her smile faded as if realizing she’d made some mistake that she was far too late to mend. 

 

“He didn’t do anything.” She answered. “I did.” Kristoff blinked in confusion. He could see the uneasiness within her. 

 

“I promised him something in exchange for your life. If I do, he’ll call off the charges and the trial.” She walked up to him as her candy blue irises fell to the damp, moss engorged floor. “But if I don’t there’s no telling what he’ll do.” 

 

“Anna, I don’t understand.” Kristoff shook his head. “Just what did you promise?” 

 

She was silent as an ashamed look passed over her greying face. His eyes widened as she shuffled on her feet, unable to look him in the eyes as she couldn’t keep the tears from leaving her own. Her tone was hushed as she answered. 

 

Kristoff very nearly toppled over in shock, his mouth falling open slightly in complete and utter awe. The needle-like claws of sickness pricked and dug into his stomach as he felt himself getting slightly dizzy. In a moment, however, his composure was gained once more by Anna pressing a soft kiss to his nose. 

 

“Anna,” He shook his head as he felt the floor seemingly drop out from under him. “You can’t.” 

 

She hiccuped slightly. “I have to. It’s part of being a ruler.” 

 

“No,” His head shook faster. “no, it isn’t. Anna, please. I know you have to sacrifice something but not this, and not for me.” 

 

“It isn’t just for you.” Her voice was riddled with more cracks than an old stretch of cobblestone. “It’s for everyone. If I can pacify Hans until I’m crowned queen-”

 

She was cut off by the iceman’s rough, calloused hands wrapping around her, sheltering her beneath his stubbly chin as he kissed her on the top of her head where the crown of long, silky hair emerged from. She felt more tears cascading down her reddening cheeks as she inhaled the scent of pine that had grown weak beneath a musk of moss and emptiness. Her tears dried on the simple white of his prison garb, wishing she could exchange it for the warmth of his gatki in an instant. After a moment, her arms entwined behind his neck. They both stared into eachothers eyes. 

 

“I don’t want to give myself him, Kristoff.” She shook her head wearily. “I don’t want to give him that. I know we’ve only been together for a short time, and I understand if you say no.” 

 

Kristoff remained quiet in response to her words, so the princess took it as a green light to continue. “I promised him something I can only let you have, and I’m so afraid of him, Kristoff. I’m just so afraid. I can’t let him take you from me, and I don’t care if it means having sex with him. But it doesn’t mean he’ll have my virginity.” She closed her eyes. “Kristoff, I want to-” 

 

She was cut off once more by his hands removing the mauveine cape of her winter gear. That was all the answer she needed. There was a feeling of childlike glee in knowing Hans couldn’t have something that had already been given out of choice, knowing he couldn’t have her to himself. It was a risky move, but Anna knew what she would be getting in return.

  
And it was worth much more to her than being a maiden. 


	6. Worries

The princess awoke the next morning to a searing pain between her legs, the muscles weak and cramping from a carnal act of pleasure that left her feeling sick and dizzy as though she’d been stabbed, squeezed, and discarded like the skin of a fruit. Certainly she’d gone into her deal with her fiance with as much fear and trepidation as expected, although she’d forced herself to keep that fear out of any part of her. She’d succeeded in that regard for all of twenty seconds until he touched her first, his hands unlacing her bodice and corset as he attempted to force her into kissing and it steadily worsened from there. Even as he pushed into her, she held the tears in watertight eyelids. His hands had slapped and pinched to keep her conscious as she’d actually fought to black out and forget the monster she’d awoken in Prince Hans.

 

But even after he’d finished and left her to collapse, the other side of the bed empty and unfortunately stained, Anna felt herself giggling with all the joy she’d felt knowing that she’d double-crossed him and he had yet to know. He would never know, she was certain. A deeper part of Anna reminded her Hans was crafty, that he’d somehow find out one day; but she hushed the reason in her mind and for once allowed herself to have a sense of pleasure she’d rarely felt since her world had come crashing down around her. Her first few moments of sunshine were interrupted as she suddenly looked down at her legs, blue eyes widening.

 

Anna tugged the nightgown halfway over her head before dashing out to the hallway and flagging down Kai with all the terror that had suddenly washed through her at the realization of what could become of her promise to not just Hans, but Kristoff.

 

“My, princess Anna,” Kai almost laughed. “You’re certainly up and about this morning.”

 

Anna ignored his greeting and his grin faded upon seeing the urgent look on her face. “I need to see Gerda, and fast.”

 

The head servant nodded, not asking anymore questions as he led the princess towards the kitchens where the middle aged woman was folding a stack of napkins, her attention shifting to the princess almost immediately. Kai then left them without another word and Anna pulled her to the side, as if being in the center of the room left them open to unwanted attention.

 

“You or Kai haven’t seen him today, have you?” She gulped as her eyes darted to one of the many shady corners of the red walls of the hall as if he’d suddenly appear out of thin air.

 

Gerda seemed to understand and nodded. “He’s meeting with the council this morning about the young man… Christopher, I think.”

 

She took a second to digest the information. “Was he… happy?” The princess gulped.

 

“He wasn’t noticeably happy, no.” She shook her head. “But I couldn’t tell. He puts on quite the act. Why are you curious? You could probably still catch the meeting.”

 

A look of consideration flashed over her reddened cheeks for a split second. “No,” She shook her head quickly. “That’s not why I needed to see you.”

 

“Well then what is it, dear?” She clasped one hand in another with concern blooming like a spring flowerbud across the small wrinkles on her face.

 

“I need tea.”

 

“Well that’s sim-”

 

“I wasn’t done.” She cut her maid off. “I need that tea you made for my mother. You know, the one that stops you from having… babies.”

 

Gerda appeared to go slightly pale, her jaw opening slightly before closing. “How?”

 

The question had more gravity than a falling boulder from the north mountain, gathering bits of dirt as well as explanations along the way. There was a small stretch of silence that made the princess looked deeply into her trusted servants eyes, trying to see someone that she knew deep in there, to see if there was trust that could be held. To not see the hollow stare of her fiance mirrored in a few of the servants and guards she’d seen about the castle. In Gerda she saw kindness, confidence, and most importantly silence.

 

With that, Anna looked around the hall. She looked at every door and window, every connection. She fine tuned her hearing for any signs of life other than the chirping of birds outside and the steady breathing of them both. There was no sound to be heard and nothing to be seen, but Anna wasn’t about to take the chance. The princess walked towards the nearest door, opening it with a twist of her hand and beckoned for Gerda to follow.

 

The room was darkened, a shadow of light coming from one of the diamond gables and casting a soft, triangular shadow along buttercream parquet floors. The shapes in the room where ghostly, white cloth draped over most of the pieces. Likely one of the unopened rooms from before Elsa’s coronation. The scent of lemon and age mingled from the hall to the sitting room, but as dilapidated as this room was, it served its purpose.

 

Gerda removed the dusty fabric shielding one of the large armchairs as Anna closed the door and locked it, the princess refusing the offer to sit and allowing Gerda to do so, saying she’d need it.

 

“I did something I’m not very proud of last night.” She began in a hollow tone. “Hans visited me yesterday, and tried to pass me off as the delusional girl. He said I wasn’t fit to stand trial, and he was going to have Kristoff killed for sure.”

 

The head housekeeper nodded, a hint of fear blooming beneath her brown eyes.

 

“And I did something that I had to do.” She felt a lump forming in her throat. “I promised him my virginity in exchange for Kristoff to be spared a trial or execution. I couldn’t let him hurt anybody else.”

 

Gerda stared ahead in slight shock, her look reminiscent of a certain ice cutters. “My lady; Anna,” She said after a moment. “I don’t have any words.” She shook her head. Another stretch of silence encompassed the slightly dark room before the head servant spoke again. “You want the tea.”

 

Anna nodded, her hands drifting to her stomach as if already anticipating to inevitable. “It’s not just him, Gerda. When I promised Hans, I promised myself he wouldn’t get anything out of me.”

 

“What are you saying, your majesty?”

 

“I’m saying I need the tea before anyone else finds out that it couldn’t be his.”

 

Not needing any more elaboration or answer, regardless of whether Gerda wanted to hear it or not, both princess and maid snuck out of the room and down to the kitchen. The tea was administered along with a collective sigh of relief from both women, knowing that Gerda’s tea never failed as an aborting agent. Of course, this was a secret between Gerda and the royal family as such a crime would’ve been warranting of serious punishment.

 

But neither of them worried. Crisis had been averted for them, at least.

 

* * *

 

When the prince walked into his cell, Kristoff felt many things aside from the boiling anger as well as the near overwhelming urge to brutally maim him with all the strength he had in his body from the slightly increased food rations. It wouldn’t provide him with much, and it wouldn’t offer closure. It was a one-and-done plan that would most likely result in his death and he knew not even Anna could persuade them otherwise. With word of Anna’s deal placed a small light at the end of a once pitch black tunnel, but there was a sense of angst that seemed to lay at the end of that tunnel no matter how promising it seemed to be. After all, it was a deal she’d made with a prince whose actions were hardly predictable.

 

It left him with a thin layer of sweat dripping down his lower back from where he sat on that same milking stool, his hands now empty as the guards had confiscated his knife and any carvings that could’ve been rendered weapons. The thought had crossed his mind, of course, but as he’d known, escape would be pointless. He couldn’t leave Anna with him.

 

“I see you haven’t exactly moved since I saw you last.” The prince remarked as he shut and bolted the door, customary torch set in holster. “I take it you’re getting bored with the atmosphere.”

 

Kristoff grunted, not shifting from his spot. “I didn’t ask to be locked up here.” He turned finally to face the intruder. “And I didn’t ask to be interviewed. Cut to the chase.”

 

Hans’ grinned ever so slightly. “Is that any way to talk to your betters?”

 

“I should ask you the same question.” He answered flatly.

 

He laughed with a slight scoff. “You somehow think you’re better than me?”

 

The peasant raised an eyebrow. “I know there’s no comparing it. I’ve never committed regicide or taken something that wasn’t mine to have. As bad as I’ve been,” He looked up at the prince. “You’re at least a thousand times worse.”

 

His gloved hand whips across his face and it stings. But Kristoff barely flinches, although there’s a dusting of moisture across his eyes that quickly dissipates. There’s worse that Hans could do to him, and he knows it.

 

“I will not be insulted by a peasant.” His eyes quickly darken. “I’d hoped this meeting could’ve gone better. I would just leave you here and forget it, but a deal is a deal.”

 

“A deal.” Kristoff echoed. “More like extortion.”

 

Hans narrowed his gaze for moment. “Call it what you will, ice cutter. Do you want me to leave you here and throw away the key?” He walked up to Kristoff. “Because it can be easily arranged.”

 

“By all means, go ahead.” He replied knowing what was in store had Anna really done what she’d said. He knew there was a smug part of him that wanted to hint his little evening with Anna in where he’d gotten a priceless treasure that Hans only believed was his. But that would just be stupid, and he wasn’t one to brag about something like that to anyone anyhow, much less his possible benefactor.

 

“I assume she’s told you,” Hans crossed his arms.

 

“About your foot size? No, she hasn’t.” He was silenced by a glare that could have froze him through to a statue.

 

“Princess Anna wished to pledge herself to me in exchange for your life. Now, I hope you understand that it’s a loose definition. Your life is spared with that one deal; but as for the rest of you-”

 

“Is going nowhere,” Kristoff finished for him. “I get it.”

 

He expected a violent reprimand for this interruption, but found it slightly troubling when it didn’t occur. It was unsettling to hear him laugh. It was a kind that sent vivid chills through his spine and made his nerves tingle with shivers. It was so disturbing Kristoff wished he could render his imprisoner speechless with one movement of his hand, like the queen of Arendelle was once able to, should she have pleased to.

 

“That wasn’t what I was going to say.” His grin was wide, a hint of pearly teeth hidden behind the red of his lips. “I was going to offer you a deal.”

 

Kristoff was quick to answer as a disgusting image crossed his mind. “No.”

 

“Not _that_ kind of deal.” He growled. “A deal for your freedom, and your pardon.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t already pardoned?”

 

“From death, ice cutter. You’re about as free as Anna is.” Kristoff didn’t wish to implore the details of that statement. “I’m going to disappear for a few days. I’ll leave the key on this floor, as well as my absence. Anna can pardon you within that time, and you can be free.”

 

“The catch.” Kristoff narrowed his eyes.

 

Hans didn’t waste time. “The tradeoff,” He corrected him. “Is that I expect you to use your freedom wisely. Because when I return I’ll relinquish it and lock you right back where you are now. I don’t expect you to overstay your welcome, ice cutter.” He leaned in towards his face.

 

Kristoff felt an incredible urge to break that perfectly pointed nose back into his skull. His eyes were soulless and dark. “I expect you to be gone from this palace before I get back, and never return within your lifetime unless you wish for death. I’m giving you the chance to walk away and leave Anna to me. Take whatever riches you wish with you. So long as they and you disappear, I have no further concerns.”

 

Kristoff felt his lower half go numb with a wave of concern passing through him. “And if I don’t?”

 

“Then you’ll be right where you are now, although I wouldn’t expect to be left alone. This is a great opportunity: to start over. To leave this world you’ve only just been introduced to and don’t belong in anyway.”

 

The ice cutter frowned, his jaw working. There was truth to what the prince told him. In a distant parallel world this could’ve been the case. He could’ve come to court Anna and he’d become more than a lowly ice cutter with trolls as his only friends and family. He’d live a happy life in this palace, built a great future. He knew it was a fantastic fantasy that could’ve been his, before that day on the fjord. Could have, should have.

 

But it hadn’t, and it never would be that way. He loved Anna dearly, but would he love the life that came with her? He wasn’t cut out to be someone he wasn’t. She could pardon him, knight him, hell, even marry him but that wouldn’t change who he always had been: a lowly peasant who cut and sold ice. No matter what title she gave him he would always be just that same grumpy man who’d stumbled into Oaken’s that one cold night in July and bumped into a popsicle who was hellbent on finding her sister.

 

She’d always be like that, unable to really give up. Even when the world was at its lowest, he knew the headstrong girl he’d helped up the North Mountian wouldn’t ever waver even if it nearly killed them both twice over. But now, seeing her in this light, it a world where all she knew was to obey her abusive fiance and keep him safe and alive for as long as possible. She had to get them both out of this mess, and without him, he didn’t think Anna would care any longer. He was a lowly ice cutter, Hans was correct about that.

 

But he was also important not just to this game, but to the princess. And yet, would leaving be what was best for her? Kristoff didn’t know, but didn’t want to answer now.

 

“Do we have a deal?” Hans extended his gloved hand.

 

Kristoff’s own hands didn’t move. His head moved from the mossy stones of his cell up to the prince, the fringe of his bangs barely hiding the darkness he allowed to manifest there in a desperate attempt to shield his visible emotion.

 

“We’ll see, your majesty, now won’t we?” He couldn’t keep the mirthless chuckle from his tone.

 

“Yes.” Hans nodded with a wickedly disturbing grin. “We most certainly will. But to ensure you have no second thoughts,” His hand removed something from his pocket, a handkerchief with golden embroidered letters stitched into it. He handed the fabric to Kristoff.

 

“What the hell are you trying to pull,” Kristoff felt power returning to his legs.

 

“Just something to think about.” Hans answered, turning around and walking to the door, unbolting it and slamming it shut as he walked back up to the surface of the castle.

 

The blonde looked for the longest time at the handkerchief, the golden letters being initials of Hans Westergaard. He stared into the bank whiteness, his eyes scanning the pure fabric for any signs. There was a scent to it that he couldn’t quite place. It was eerily familiar. He turned it over and saw the first sign that something was wrong. Drops of crimson blood stained the soft white surface. Kristoff squinted even harder before something tickled at his calloused fingers.

 

It was hair, soft and brown that he’d seen shed so many winters. The scent became clearer with a sickening realization. He stood, his bare feet grinding into the stones as he walked to the door, towards the torch and its holster.

 

He held the dry fabric to the licking orange flame, and watched the evidence of his prized reindeers torture be engulfed by the fire. He couldn’t bear to think of it and couldn’t live with himself if Sven were possibly hurt. It was a reminder that Anna wasn’t all that mattered. His best friend was only an animal. He couldn’t fight back in any possible way. As he let the painful thoughts smoulder and curl, Kristoff knew the choice would be much harder than before.

 

He needed an answer, and he needed one soon. He had a few days to decide the fate of two important people, but refused to waste any more energy that day figuring it out. Instead, Kristoff took to his bed on the bench, and let himself be carried to his dreams where no fears could reach him.

  
Even the worry he held couldn’t penetrate his sleep, He’d figure out the rest of this later. Something told Kristoff he wouldn’t be sleeping for the next few nights anyway.


	7. Trust

In the night that followed her fateful decision to end all doubts of her night with two very different men, Anna felt the cold bristle past her skin as she lay in her bed, the thin cover of the duvet leaving her uncomfortably cold. Her night dress hiked up her legs as she tossed and turned, the moonlight that spilled through her window covering the entirety of Anna’s mauve and pink tinted room in a soft white glow that seemed painfully familiar. Lost memories had been returned that fateful day for an unknown reason; and as grateful as the princess was to have them back, they only served to remind her of a person she deeply missed but knew almost nobody else did. A glaze of tears clouded her visions of a youthful Elsa. Her bed at one point had sat directly opposite hers, its pale blue blankets always laced with the most delicate frosting of ice. They’d played in the ballroom, raided the dessert pantry, participated in all manner of winter fun until that one evening when her sister’s powers caused her harm. It had been the first time.

 

The second, on the other hand she wished not to remember. Elsa could’ve lived if she’d just looked the other way. She could’ve done something. Where did she go wrong?

 

_ When you were so naive you accepted a marriage proposal after one night. _ The voice in her head cackled. 

 

Anna tried to have faith in Hans after her plan had succeeded. She’d gotten him to agree to letting Kristoff go in exchange for herself. It was a fair trade, she tried to remind herself as her eyes opened and stared at the ceiling, the blank whiteness reminding her of so many things she desperately wished it didn't. The snow that sparkled on the gables of the palace on any given winter morning, the platinum blonde of her sister’s hair and porcelain white of her skin, the white of her princes jacket, the gold trim and pretty smirk fooling her into his tightly organized ruse. 

 

But this didn’t keep her from letting those few tears leak from her eyelids as she attempted once again to assume Hans had been true to his word when she had no real way of knowing other than the prince himself and that most certainly had its risks. She couldn’t risk seeing Kristoff again at this late in the night. The guards were diligent men and would either question her, inform her fiance of her actions, or if she was gutsy and stupid enough, she may end up shot. 

 

What a wonderful day that would be for Hans, should any scenario she’d just elaborated come to pass. 

 

A knock on the door made her blink slowly, her now clean sleeve wiping the tears away. She gave no answer when the door opened, no light spilling from the dark hallway as the room seemed to grow colder. 

 

The pale figure of a woman had entered her room, and Anna felt a sensation of glowing joy as she heard the soft, hushed voice almost whisper her name. “Anna,” It sounded so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.

 

Her body shivered with a warm tingling sensation as she looked at the glowing white of her skin and face, the dark reflection in her flickering cerulean blue orbs, the crystals of glimmering ice that clung to her dress in a crochet pattern, a sheer cape draping along the carpet like the veil of a ghostly bride. She looked so real and the princess longed to run up and embrace her sister, but felt too weak and shocked to move herself any further than to sit up. 

 

“Elsa,” She identified the woman as a few more tears glided down her cheeks. The queen stood across from her bed, a small smile twitching at her face as her brunette eyebrows relaxed. For a moment she remained like this until she studied her sister and her face was quickly etched with concern. 

 

“Anna, what’s wrong?” She questioned after a moment.

 

The question felt foreign to Anna from her sister in particular. She hadn’t heard such concern from her since their childhood before her icy older sister had to shut her out because of a curse she feared. Anna blinked as the possibility of that one hope entered her mind.

 

“You’re,” She hiccuped. “You’re alive,” She laughed weakly as a feeling of strength rushed through her legs and she swung them over the bed. 

 

Her sister moved towards the bed, hands tucked calmly within each other. Her sheer cape sparkled as she passed the window like a grand sky full of stars. Lithe and ice-clad arms reached out and wrapped themselves around her sister before Anna knew what was happening. It was cold initially, but so warm between them. With a slight prick to her heart Anna realized it was the first time that they’d ever hugged as women, all physical contact between them a lost art after the age of five and eight. But she hugged back all the same, her hot face pressed to her sister’s shoulder, doing as she’d never been able to do before or after the coronation, and cry to family. 

 

The hug broke apart as Elsa relaxed her hands on the princess's shoulders, gravitating to sit down on the thin duvet as Anna dried her sorrow away in her sleeve. 

 

“You’re alive.” She repeated, the hope seeming too good to be true. 

 

Elsa’s eyes hardened and drifted to the floor. “I guess I am.” She replied with sigh. “But that’s not why I’m here. Anna,” She took the princesses hands. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

 

“What for?” She asked in slight confusion. 

 

“For all of this.” She answered. “For all that I’ve ruined in your life.” Anna looked at her blankly. “I’m sorry that I kept shutting you out, for hurting you with more than my gift; for leaving you alone all your life, not not being there like the sister I should’ve been. Like the  _ queen  _ I should’ve been. You deserve so much more than I gave you, Anna, and I’ll never forgive myself for all that I did wrong with you.”

 

A slightly sad smile tugged at her lips. “Elsa,” Anna squeezed her bare hands. “You don’t need to apologize for any of it. You only wanted to protect me.” The realization came over her. “You only wanted me to have my best chance.” Elsa laughed a bit, something that also felt strange to hear. Anna shrugged a bit. 

 

“We were both wrong, it seems.” The queen looked at her with a hint of confusion. The desire for elaboration was clearly visible. “I was wrong in so many ways.” Anna shook her head, her voice beginning to crack. “I thought I was doing the right thing with Hans, and now-” 

 

“I know.” Elsa stopped her.

 

“Wait, what?” She sniffed. 

 

“I know.” She repeated, a hand settling on her thigh. “And I know you’re afraid.” 

 

Confronted by anyone else with the same accusation, the princess knew she would whole-heartedly deny to the end of the earth. She was to be queen, the person everyone would look up to. She now knew the facade her sister had held, the secret emotions she’d kept within, the show she’d put on to prove she could rule a nation when she wasn’t prepared. Anna was afraid not only for herself and Kristoff, but to live up to the person she knew everyone expected her to be. Elsa could do it even with the impossible odds of ice powers added to the list, and then some. 

 

But this was Elsa, her sister, the queen, and the only family she really had left in the world. With the weight of the world on her shoulders, it was hard to let people in to see who she really was beneath the mask she put on. Disregarding the ice powers, Elsa was exactly like her in every way at this moment in time. Gerda was valuable, and an amazing friend. But as wonderful as the head housekeeper was, Elsa was her sister. And nothing could replace that.

 

“I can’t be afraid, Elsa.” Anna sighed. “Being queen means you can’t be afraid.” 

 

“Anna, you and I both know that’s not true. Even queens fear things. We may fear different things, but being afraid is a human trait. It’s by our nature and design. I wouldn’t expect you to take what you have easily, to say the least.” She answered. 

 

“So you know about Hans?” She tempted. 

 

Elsa paused for a moment, a slight breath escaping her ruby red lips. “I do.” She nodded. 

 

“And you know about Kristoff.” She concluded. Elsa nodded and a stretch of silence passed as Anna let the words sink in. “What would you have done,” Anna questioned. “if you had to?”

 

Elsa took a minute to answer, her brow tightening in slight concentration. “I think we both know why you did what you did, Anna. We’re sisters. I would’ve done exactly the same to keep the people I love safe.” 

 

“You’re not mad?” She pressed. 

 

“Well, given the circumstances no.” Elsa replied. “But mad isn’t the right word to describe my feelings, Anna.” 

 

The princess shifted on the bed where she sat, uncomfortable heat rising to redden her cheeks. “What would be the right word?” 

 

In a moment, the queen released a slight hiccup and Anna could see the gleam of tears in her sisters dulled eyes as elder faced younger. It was a sound she had never heard from Elsa in her entire life and the abnormality of it made her jump. The word left Elsa’s lips with a heartfelt and sorrowful stare. 

 

“Proud.” She answered. 

 

“Proud?” Anna echoed in confusion, not expecting such a word to follow a heartbreaking look. 

 

“You’ve proven you’re more than ready to make these kinds of decisions.” She held the smile. “You’ve proven how strong you really are, and you’ve learnt a valuable lesson to become Arendelle’s future queen.” 

 

The princess's eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such praise to be delivered by a sibling who’s last words to her had been to get out of her palace and last real action towards her to send an abominable snowman to take care of the job. It was jarring to hear this genuine praise from the absolute last person she’d expect it from save for Hans and it was obvious he wouldn’t ever say it in any way, shape or form. To think, she’d traded her sister for that. She disgusted herself.

 

“But I can’t rule.” She shook her head. “I’m not ready for this, Elsa. I just… I just wish you were here.” Anna gulped. “You would make this so much easier.”

 

“I know.” Elsa agreed with a slight nod. “But you’ve pulled through all of this on your own Anna. You’ve defied my greatest expectations of you and Mama and Papa are proud, too.” 

 

“What would they say,” Anna sniffed. “If they were here?” 

 

“It would be praise, praise and more praise, Anna. They would be as proud of you as I am. They aren’t alive to see the beautiful woman you’ve become.” 

 

Anna bit her lip. “But neither are you.”

 

Elsa shrugged. “Who says I’m not, Anna?”

 

“The fact that I caused this mess.” She frowned. “Because of me, you’re dead. Because of me, Arendelle is doomed. Because of me, everything-” The queen settled an index finger on her sister’s lips, shushing her.

 

“Because of you,” Elsa repeated. “Arendelle will have a fine young woman to call their queen, and anybody else who thinks otherwise is a fool. You have made me so proud, Anna.”

 

“Elsa, because of me you- you  _ died! _ ” She stuttered. 

 

“I know.” Elsa answered simply as though the matter were as simple as her dropping a plate in the kitchens. 

 

“What do you mean ‘ _ I know?! _ ’ It’s my fault that you’re not here right now! I killed you!” Anna felt angry as sobs left her chest. 

 

Elsa suddenly wrapped her in another hug and the anger her sister felt fluttered away as the queen settled her head on top of hers like her mother would so often do in their youth, her platinum blonde braid smelling of pine and crocus oils. Tears were sopped up in the crystals of ice framing her shoulders, the fabric of her modified coronation dress still barely visible through bleary and squinted eyes.

 

“You didn’t kill me Anna.” Elsa soothed. “Hans did.” She reminded her.

 

“But that doesn’t change the fact that I could’ve done something…” She said through sobs. “I could’ve saved us both, I could’ve stopped Hans. I went on that journey for you Elsa and may have gotten you back, but I failed you.” 

 

The queen held the princess's shoulders tight, the muscles seizing and becoming icy in her cold grip. Her stare was hard and stern. “You didn’t fail me, Anna. You didn’t cause my death or anything of the sort. There wasn’t anything you could do that wouldn’t have gotten us both killed. At least it’s better to see one of us carry on the line.”

 

Anna suddenly felt very sick at that last statement, and Elsa neglected to notice. “Besides,” The blonde continued. “If anyone is responsible for my cause of death other than Hans, I think it’s myself.” 

 

Anna stared with wide blue eyes into the soul of a woman who’d been through so much to protect her. Elsa cleared her throat and relaxed her grip on Anna, the seriousness no longer needed as the princess was interested in elaboration to this conclusion. 

 

The queen sighed. “I suppose I died for a reason that day, Anna. It could’ve been my time or some sort of repercussion for more or less abandoning my people. However in any of those reasons, I could’ve handled things better. I didn’t have to run away. I could’ve tried to thaw Arendelle, but like the coward I was I hid myself away. Only when you were hurt did I really care, and that was my failing. A queen has to be able to balance her country and her family. I suppose it’s a burden we all face, royal or not.”

 

Something within rang through Anna as if to remind her Anna of something. Someone.

 

“Do you mind?” She asked. 

 

“Mind what?” Elsa retorted. 

 

“Kristoff… that man who took me to see you. Do you mind that I… you know,” 

 

Elsa laughed a bit. “Of course I don’t mind. Kristoff is a good man, I’m sure. A far cry better than Hans, anyway.” Anna nodded in agreement. “I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.” 

 

Anna smiled a bit. “I plan to.” 

 

Elsa sighed. “I hope so. Remember, Anna: please be careful for me, and know that I’m sorry. You’ll be a better queen than I ever was.”

 

Her eyes shot open at the sound of another knock on the door, the rapping indicating that whoever was on the other side had either no manners or the matter was important. She moved around the stiffness of her covers, her sister nowhere to be seen as she remembered that what she’d said with Elsa was only a dream. Now she awoke to her nightmare. 

 

Her wonderful, hellish nightmare. 

 

A long shadow stretched along the pink carpeted floor through the flood of golden light escaped its domain in the hallway, the world outside her window dark yet dotted with the distant field of white, glowing stars. In the shade she could easily tell who was at her door. Instinct rushed through her as she disentangled herself from the covers, planting her feet to the ground and standing tall before Hans could take advantage of her being in bed. 

 

He appeared to observe her movements, skittish as they were despite her attempts, to move around the piled pillows and dresses she’d so carelessly left strewn about the floor. She came to a stop at her baseboard, her hands digging into the lacquered and painting wood as if it were the only thing saving her from drifting away into vacuumless space.

 

“Good evening, Princess Anna.” Hans entered the room and opened the door a hair wider to provide himself with a bit more light, his hands tucked behind his back and not drifting to the electric switch like Anna somehow assumed it would. 

 

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, recalling the last time she’d tried to act tough around him and how easily he’d called her bluff. The wound on her wrist was healed by now, the flesh only a hint of pink darker than the rest of her. The nightgown had been washed. The foodstuffs had been cleaned up, and the tea… oh that tea, had been safely drunken and disposed of. He had no proof, Anna told herself. He wouldn’t figure it out.

 

“What are you doing here at this time of night, Hans,” It was timid and laced with slight exhaustion. 

 

Hans smiled at her and Anna immediately felt herself get sick, needles clawing into her intestines. “I just wanted to see you. I take it you’re feeling better after having eaten?” 

 

Anna nodded. Hans mimicked her as if to show content. “Why do you want to see me?”

 

Hans began to pace. Anna desperately wished that Gerda had left something… a frying pan, maybe, to use should he get close. It was idiotic, sure; but given how he treated her it was a necessary precaution. It would’ve pleasured her to hurt him like he’d hurt her and everything she cared about. The trouble was that he could fight back. With words, fists, his authority was unshaken. 

 

And yet, Anna tried to feel some pride in not quivering or crying like she had those first few times he’d directly confronted her in the wake of her traumatic day on the ice. 

 

“I wanted to tell you I’m going away for a few days on a diplomatic trip and to make preparations for our wedding. It’s only two weeks away. Granted, with all that’s been happening I don’t blame anyone for not getting the invitations out sooner.” 

 

“Invitations?” She echoed stupidly. 

 

Hans rolled his darkened green eyes at her. “Yes, Anna. Invitations. We’re inviting people to such an event. I do understand you haven’t exactly had a party here that ended well in your entire lifetime, but I’d expect you to know the basics, at least.” 

 

“And why did it involve waking me in the middle of the night?” She questioned again, suspicion pumping through every vein. 

 

Hans groaned in a very un-princely manner. “Because I’m leaving in the morning. Given your sleeping habits I couldn’t wake you if I tried.” The princess had to agree with the prince on that. She was by no means a morning person.

 

“And where are you going, Hans?” She couldn’t help but be curious, a slight amount of hope clawing its way up deep within. 

 

“The neighboring kingdoms, I suppose. They will no doubt want to be invited to our wedding and your coronation as Arendelle’s queen.” There was something laced in his tone that suggested he was about to say ‘My coronation’ and Anna didn’t at all doubt he was looking forward to that more than the other two events he only pretended to be excited or bothered by; as if the former two events were going on errands that were both well worth it in exchange for a well deserved treat at the end of the long road. It would be a cakewalk for both of them, ideally. 

 

But given their current relationship, Anna doubted he’d be escorting her to the marital bed with any form of enthusiasm unless he really was as sexually deprived as she’d once been. She instinctively felt a twinge of pain between her legs at the thought of it happening again. And again. And again.

 

Her nails dug into the baseboard with so much pressure she could feel her nubbed fingers clawing into the paint. At least, what was left of her nails. 

 

“I hope you know to behave yourself accordingly while I’m away.” He walked towards her. “You’re to be married to me, Anna. I expect you to practice at manners and dignity, just as you would when I’m not around.” His shadow touched her feet. Anna felt so unbearably cold between the darkness of his shadow and her room. 

 

He eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

 

Hans looked almost bored. “I mean I expect you to remain as faithful as I will while we’re apart.”

 

Anna almost regretted her next choice of words. “What makes me so sure you will?” Though she intended to sound even the most remote bit threatening, it came out breathlessly, and she couldn’t read Hans’ response on his face. It troubled her deeply.   


 

“Why would I ever stray from you, dear pet?” He came closer. “After all, you love me.” 

 

A flash rocketed past her sight as she saw the distant glow of the dimming fireplace, the cultivated orange course of warm dying in the bone chilling cold of the library. Her limbs rested on the plush of the velveteen red sofa, Hans casting a shadow over her as he drew in for the kiss that would prove his love for her, and save her from the death of freezing solid in a manner that wasn’t just an expression at the time. She felt the warmth of his breath until his voice alerted her from her visions of a happy future. 

 

“ _ Oh Anna, _ ” He grinned cunningly, his eyes alight with a beautifully childish pleasure. “ _ If only there was someone out there who loved you. _ ” 

 

She fell silent, looking on at the man who’d led her on those few hours of time they’d spent together, manipulating her into thinking someone did love her. For a brief and shining moment, she’d thought nobody had. Until she’d seen Kristoff stumbling across the ice and Olaf had told her so, there was no point to her continuing. She'd been very wrong, and she still was about a lot of things. 

 

Only this time, she knew what love was. She knew gentle, she knew kind, she knew a man that was everything a good lover should be and Hans was not it. If he suspected anything, she didn’t know. He would know one day if he didn’t already, but tonight was hardly a good time. She would’ve liked to believe he would never find out, but that was being too optimistic. Anna knew she’d tell one day, but only when she could afford to say so. When someone other than her wouldn’t be hurt. 

 

When Kristoff wouldn’t be hurt. 

 

“You think I don’t know what love is.” Anna accused softly, her eyes showing hurt as they drifted to the floor, wounded and blue. Hans remained silent. “I don’t.”

 

The prince’s lips curved into a sinister grin that could have once been seen as endearing. “And neither do I.” He shook his head slowly. 

 

Anna’s hand left the baseboard, her fingers curling into balled fists. “But I do know what we have now, what you think we have, is anything but love. It hasn’t taken me long to see that Hans, and I want you to open your eyes and realize how stupid you sound. You don’t control me.” 

 

That last part was a mistake, but it needed to be said. Hans didn’t think so, apparently. His gloved hand knocked her face to the side, her face flushing as she took it, her eyes dark and empty, tears pricking at her eyelids as they had so many times. Hans saw the woman within, the woman who’d cowered at his touch or even his voice, she was so afraid. She was still there, even behind the emptiness he now bared witness to. He still controlled her. 

 

“I think you’ll come to regret those words, princess.” He replied. “Your ice cutter may be fine, but he’s not the only thing in this palace you care about. Consider it a warning. I’m sure you’ll learn to see things my way.” 

 

Anna’s teeth clenched together. “Don’t threaten me, Hans.” She growled.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not threatening you, princess. I just wanted to talk. Speaking of which,” His other hand, the one that was behind his back before, revealed itself. A red box, a silk ribbon tied tightly along the center in a cross, the bow graceful and soft like some sort of delicate flower. It was barely the size of a book, and seemed almost heavy to the touch.

 

Anna hesitated, her fists remaining at her sides as she struggled to hold back her confusion at this sudden and very suspicious offer that her fiance was presenting to her. So many questions raced through her mind as her hands uncoiled, nail marks leaving reddened and purple bruises in her pale palms. 

 

Hans narrowed his eyes. “It’s awfully rude to refuse a gift, Anna. What would your parents say to this?” 

 

Although she had a very good idea of what her parents would be saying in this sort of situation, given the time, place, and most of all the man, she felt a twinge of pain at the jab despite saying to herself it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t look harmless. It looked like a box. 

 

But if she’d learned anything from these past few weeks, it was that looks could be deceiving. Very deceiving. 

 

She slowly took the box, in one hand then the other, looking between it and her fiance. His hands were poised at his hips, and the look on his face suggested she should open it lest she be so rude. Anna’s fingers weakly tugged at the bow, untying it while refusing to let her gaze towards the prince falter. Suspicion mounted beneath every inch of her skin as she shifted the red box, removing the top with one hand. 

 

Beneath a layer of thinly cut matching paper sat dark, rounded, and varied chocolates, neatly arranged in their packaging and each one more beautifully crafted than the last. Anna glared at Hans murderously. 

 

“What are you looking at me like that for, Anna?” He asked with no emotion. 

 

Anna’s glare didn’t falter. She refused to look at the offering. “What’s wrong with them.” She demanded. 

 

“Besides the alarmingly high sugar content nothing; unless you suddenly don’t like chocolate so much anymore.”

 

“Don’t even try to lie to me Hans. What. Did. You. Do.” She hissed. 

 

Hans scowled. “If you don’t want them, then don’t eat them. It’s a shame though. Those are good chocolates.” 

 

Anna felt her grip on the box tightening. “I don’t want them.” She shook her head. “I don’t want anything from you.” 

 

Hans rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t, my mistake. I at least hoped you’d be cordial. Trust is an amazing thing Anna. It builds friendships, is the backbone of relationships, it carries by a lifetime. Maybe you’ll realize it’s a friendly gesture and this time, I mean no harm.” He turned around and began to walk away. “You keep them anyway. I’ll see you in the morning before embarking.”

 

Anna stared, the top of the box hitting the floor with a very audible sound as Hans suddenly stopped, startling her. “I hope to see you for breakfast tomorrow.” With that he was gone.

 

And with that, the princess drifted to her bed, turning the light beside it on and brightening the pink of her carpet and walls. The box was set before her as she reclined on the headboard, carefully examining the first one she pulled from the box, analyzing the seemingly ordinary chocolate with the same level of suspicion one would look at a red toadstool with before eating it. It was soft, smelled familiar, and had a drizzled topping in darker lattice. It was dark chocolate, Anna could tell. 

 

It was also dark like his heart. So fitting, and yet chocolate was much better than Hans. Chocolate wouldn’t lie to her. She’d always trusted it. To know he had ruined something else for her was a tough pill to swallow. 

 

_Why would he poison it?_ The weakness of her common sense oozed. 

 

A familiar voice entered her head.  _ It would be awfully convenient, wouldn’t it? _

 

The box hit the wall across the room, brown bits of suspicion hitting the carpeted floor and rolling weakly about the mauveine waves. The one in her hand was disposed of as well, joining its matching companion on the floor and far away from the princess. She had no way of proving it, but she had no way of disproving it that wouldn’t result in a risky decision that could easily grant Hans access to everything he pined for. She couldn’t afford to trust things, to take the risk of him somehow disposing of her. 

 

There were no shadows outside the crack of the closed door to her room, but after the chocolate box Anna could hear the pace of black, polished boots as they made their way down the hall. She ignored the nervous cramps in her stomach and let herself sleep again, fairly confident she’d beaten him. She wasn't as naive.  


  
_ But only for the moment,  _ She felt Elsa remind her. Only for the moment.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, Elsa appears in this chapter! I figured she was a good idea because considering the events, there's a lot of guilt and things they never got to say. Also I felt like she'd provide a bit of confidence for our heroine and a dream sequence is as good an idea as any!


	8. Mericiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez I'm sorry about the delay of this chapter... I just haven't been in the mood to write recently. Anyway things get really... erm... bad in this chapter. So this is your warning. Physical abuse awaits those who keep going.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all read, enjoy, and comment!

The following morning in Arendelle was a relatively quiet one. The blazing orange sun slowly trekked across the rosy pink dawn. The last crocuses from the queen’s coronation were blooming and surrendering their brittle purple petals to the ground while above in the sky the honking of geese echoing in the fjords and mountains as they took flight; the last clouds of a harsh eternal winter dissipating into nothingness from whence it came.

 

Hans took absolutely no mind to the beauty of the world outside. He’d never had time to do so in the past and certainly wasn’t about to start now. Although he cherished the sunny days and the beauty of the climbing wisteria that existed in the land he was to rule within two weeks time, there was an unspoken level of patriotism that he held for the Southern Isles no matter how unbearable his past might have been there. He loved the scent of citrus, the salted rocky coastlines. It was a passionate feeling that made him feel at home. Nonetheless, he reminded himself that Arendelle was now his home. And, as much as he enjoyed the nature of the Southern Isles, the ultimate truth of what rested past it all in the palace he’d grown up in was evidence enough that even in his grown and glorified state, he was still just the runt of the litter to all of his twelve older brothers. But he’d prove them wrong; no he _proved_ them wrong already.

 

So, despite his anxiety of possibly returning home, there was the tiniest spark of glory within his twisted little heart that he would show them exactly what the thirteenth prince was capable of. There were delicious fantasies of ruling a kingdom on his own that he’d always dreamt of fulfilling; ever since his brothers had decided the youngest was the weakest and therefore the easiest target. There could’ve even been pride awaiting him at the palace gates and both their nations would prosper under Westergaard rule. Nothing like this had ever been achieved before and Hans had a feeling that for once the jealousy could be returned his way by every one of his most hated siblings. Of the twelve, six were married and three had already had children of their own.

 

But none could say they’d taken over another kingdom. It was all the fun of his little competition. He’d have a wife and soon enough given the frequency of their nighttime pleasures would have a new prince of Arendelle. Of course, most of his brothers had wasted months in their respective spouses. He’d managed to do so in less than a day. Granted it wasn’t willing now that Anna knew his intentions, but despite her fiercely determined hostility towards him; however weak and nearly adorable it may have seemed, Hans knew he could at least try to be cordial with his bride.

 

Poisoning the chocolate was an easy task. Whether or not she’d rejected the offer or died didn’t matter to him. All it did was prove Anna wasn’t as naive as before. It proved she didn’t trust his effort of good will, as untrue as it may have been. It proved there was work to be done if Anna were to see him in even a neutral light and should push come to shove eliminating her was a very real and possibly preferable option. The latter was also more easily done. Oh, the methods and possibilities were endless. It could be poisoning a food he didn’t offer. He could slit her throat in her sleep. He could even step on the skirt her dress as she walked down the stairs. All of them could be ruled tragic and unfortunate accidents and with no real heir to be spoken of it would deliver Hans exactly where he wanted to be: on top, as King of Arendelle.

 

But Hans knew most of all he couldn’t be hasty or most of all cocky in his choices. That had nearly proved fatal to his plan. He hadn’t expected Anna to live and vouch for the ice cutters release. Thankfully he’d avoided anyone taking poor, delusional princess Anna seriously in her pleasant, imaginary accusations against him. As far as everyone else knew he was the knight in shining white armor that saved them from the curse of a monster; and nobody would be any wiser. But being prideful in his chances had nearly killed him many times. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake. Anna more than likely suspected him to do her in, and he admired her for her cunning, as meager as it was.

 

She sat across from him now, at the other end of the massive table in the oddly named informal dining room. It was a relatively large, perhaps a third bigger than the library, and had a large table fit to finely dine twelve occupants as well as being adorned with numerous other things such as delicate busts and naturally scenic paintings that would render it more formal than any aristocrat’s finest banquet hall. Light from the morning poured in through the large and open windows, per Hans’ request when Anna came down as dressed as he’d expected her to be and sat herself facing the slowly rising sun.

 

In the light of the morning it was rather clear Anna hadn’t taken advantage of the night and hadn’t slept through it. Her lids were heavy and hollow beneath dulled blue eyes, and despite being braided into two plaits about her shoulders, it was obvious she hadn’t been awake enough to ensure they were to their best. Normally Hans would’ve taken advantage of her pathetic looking state and scolded her for it, but even he had to have some pity. Minimal, that was, but some nonetheless.

 

She hadn’t said a word to him since she appeared, her limpid eyes shifting quietly between the view of the fjord and the inlaid pattern of the dark wood tabletop. Hans didn’t attempt to make conversation so long as her presence was felt. He was actually not interested in making conversation with the young lady as they were alone except for the occasional servant to refill their platters of eggs and bacon.

 

Anna’s plate sat to her left, the yolks broken and the bacon nibbled at. Her tea sat to her right, being picked up and sipped every few moments as if to remind Hans she hadn’t shrivelled up and left a cocoon in her seat. Given the vacancy of her gazes nowadays Hans wouldn’t be surprised if she did just that soon enough. Hans’ own plate had been cleaned and refilled twice, and his coffee mug seemed to be bottomless. The staff hadn’t seen many meals served since Elsa’s coronation and Hans seemed to be the only customer they had who desired anything. While Gerda had been coaxing Anna to eat again, the princess still skipped on average a meal a day now. Nobody save for Gerda was particularly concerned for her unless it came in the form of an order given the situation.

 

Even in the light of the morning Hans could still see the pale light of day through the blizzard that had held the castle hostage in it’s icy, needle-like grip not even a week prior. The last of the queen’s eternal winter seemed to have worn away. There were calls to the castle for an extension of relief and Hans had seen to it in it’s entirety, offering condolences to those who’d lost things and people they cared about. He actually wondered if his influence was strong enough within the palace that the head servant Kai was purposely restraining from reminding Hans of finance. The prince chose to assume so. A king could assume what he wished, if he was feared.

 

It was nice making people fear him instead of the other way around, for a change. Hans cleared his throat and Anna looked up towards him. Towards him, as if to avoid the darkness of his eyes. “So Anna,” He began. “What are you planning to do while I’m gone?”

 

The princess allowed a pause before sipping her tea, seemingly ignoring her fiance’s question. Silence was golden, she’d often been told. With Hans, it was a golden goose. The prince rolled his eyes at her.

 

“It’s not polite to ignore a man when he speaks to you, Anna. These are the things we need to correct before your coronation.” He frowned. “We can’t have a queen who mumbles through her tea and stays quiet simply because she wants to.”

 

The princess gulped weakly behind her cup thinking of all the things Hans would ‘correct’ about her. She took another big swallow and like that, the worry vanished. It was a welcome distraction knowing Gerda was regularly circulating her special tea. It would keep things from ever going to far with Hans or Kristoff. It bothered her to take such precautions, but they were necessary. Finally, she set the cup down and focused what volume she had on him, to show him she was paying attention.

 

“I plan on riding, meeting with the council, maybe visiting the village.” She kept it at that and she heard Elsa silently applauding her confidence. Hans raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised at the level response.

 

He snorted. “I take it you’ll be riding truthfully instead of visiting the pungent ice cutter.”

 

A shiver ran through her cold blood as she felt his gloved hand strike her for being dishonest. She almost jumped at the painful memory, but gritted her teeth and swallowed the fear like a spoonful of bitter greens.

 

“What reason would I have to visit him again.” She answered despite knowing Hans wouldn’t believe her. He was no fool. Neither of them would buy it. He didn’t.

 

“I don’t know what reasons you would have for him, Anna.” He pushed his plate to the side and replaced the empty spot with two gloved hands. “I don’t understand the appeal you have for him. He’s only a lowly little peasant whose fleas will mourn his eventual passing. He can’t offer you anything.” Anna felt herself going red, and Hans’ eyes flashed murderously. “And we both know he’s nothing compared to me. So, go on. Tell me.”

 

The princess felt her eyes involuntarily widening, and she blinked in an attempt to hide what sudden shock she held, fear quickly collecting in beads of anxious sweat. “Tell you what?” She tried to pass off the prince’s question, hoping to high heaven that her faux ignorance would be enough.

 

Hans glared. “How it felt, knowing you managed to skirt on our deal.”  

 

There was no question now and no time to deny it. How he’d figured it out she didn’t know and almost didn’t want to know. Someone had to have told. He couldn’t have known otherwise. Gerda, Kristoff; they’d sworn to secrecy. But somehow, someone hadn’t been careful enough. She felt white and empty as a ghost, her vision swimming for only a moment until she realized a storm was coming. He began to move, his boots clicking along the rug as he rounded the table. Anna suddenly felt her heart leap into her throat as she ordered her body to move, fear rushing through every muscle but freezing dead in her limbs, her blood going ice cold.

 

She was paralyzed with fear as Hans’ imposing shadow suddenly blocked the stream of white sunlight, the darkness making her shrink into her chair. The varnish of the wood and padding of the back pressed into her limbs and she closed her eyes. Gloved hands coiled round her neck, squeezing on her windpipe. Breath left her as she struggled to pick her dead arms up and stop Hans. She was helpless in his vise-like grip and she felt her eyes fluttering open despite not wanting to look her dangerous fiance in the eyes.

 

His disapproval was replaced by a vicious rage that embodied everything Anna feared. His eyes were souless and something wicked glowed beneath the endless black of his pupils. The flecks of hazel flashed like distant lightning and his growl rumbled like thunder. It was the perfect storm, and the princess felt herself being lifted by one hand as easily as a child would lift a ragdoll. Hans could easily kill her right then and there.

 

“What are you waiting for,” Anna managed to gasp from beneath the princes grip. “G-go ahead,” She rasped. “Do it now.”

 

Hans chuckled softly, his grip loosening slightly as the princess gulped air like a beached fish. “I won’t.” He shook his head but the disgusting sneer refused to vacate his face. “Killing you would be merciful,” She hit the chair and fell to the rug, gasping and coughing. Her hands drifted to the legs of her seat weakly as her fiance bent down to face her. “And I’m not merciful.”

 

Anna felt herself matching his sneer through coughs and gasps, looking up at her fiance with wanton anger that had flared through her. It was almost as if they were back in the library, and Hans had revealed his true intentions; shown his true colors. Nobody but her saw the beast behind the man, and Anna knew Hans would never have attempted what he had just done had there even been one servant or guard.

 

“I know.” She glared at him. Hans’ sneer faltered slightly. “If you were merciful, I’d have been dead weeks ago. You want to show me how weak I am. But remember this Hans,” Her gaze darkened past his lowest level. “You might be doing this now, but this is my kingdom; and come hell or high water, you don’t-”

 

Her vision swam as his boot collided with her stomach. She coughed and narrowly avoided throwing up her tea. His hand grabbed one of her plaits and for a moment Anna felt as if it would tear her scalp free. She was forced to look at him and behind her weak performance, the courage she’d nurtured was hiding behind a curtain like a child with an impossibly large amount of stage fright.

 

“I wouldn’t test my patience, Anna. Here is something for you to consider.” His fingers uncoiled and Anna hit to rug again, her throat burning with bile. There was the sound of leather sliding along fabric as the princess suddenly began to crawl away, knowing what would be coming unless she vacated the dining room as fast as humanly possible.

 

But he tugged her braid once more like a leash, tilting her back to his feet. The belt came down on her shoulder. Whatever pain she’d felt from his hand was a pin prick compared to this. Cold, black leather stung like the lash of a whip, the fabric of her dress tearing free from her burning freckled skin. She felt the cut of skin on hide but her screams were muffled by his other hand, white silky fingers clawing to her cheek. The belt came down again but she couldn’t see straight through a shallow layer of tears. It continued three more times and by the fifth Anna was but a sobbing mess on the rug, cowering in pain as the prince finally let go of his pet.

 

“This is only a small part of what your ice cutter will face for your deeds. Remember who holds the power in this castle, Anna. They might be your people, but they will be mine in less than two weeks. Whatever power you think you have over them will be mine, so it’s time you gave in and accepted it.” With that, he turned and began to walk away. Anna pulled herself to her knees, a hand massaging her burned and bruised shoulder. Tears streamed down her face from darkened, swelling blue eyes. But her mouth was a thin, unmoving line.

 

 _Let him believe it._ Elsa said to her. _You’ve said enough._

 

And so she could only clutch her shoulder, massaging the agonizing pain as the door slammed shut without another word. Something occurred to the princess. Where Hans was going, how what she’d felt would be ‘a small part’ of what Kristoff would face. Power surged through her limp legs and she sprinted for the door with wide and lucid fear. She almost tripped over the rug in her haste and her small body slammed into the double doors, her injury stinging on contact with the rosemaling painted door. Her hands twisted at the gold encrusted handles. They turned a small bit with her weight on it, but didn’t budge. He’d locked the door. The only door to the castle. To Kristoff. To anyone.

 

The princess felt shivers roll through her body, guilt racking in her throat as a choked sob erupted from her lips. Suddenly she couldn’t feel her body, her spirit fleeing once more when she’d needed it most. It was gone again. She’d fought back, just as she’d feared, and it would cost her everything. Her weight sagged on the door as she crumbled to the wooden floor, her knees digging into the planks and tears leaking from her eyes. With the distant calls of seagulls and the more than certain torture of her reindeer king ringing in her ears, she buried her face into her thin skirts and wept for her own careless mistakes.

 

She’d fought back, true to her word. And knowing their deal meant nothing, there was no chance to bargain a life once more. Nothing could be said or done now, and it was all her fault. Kristoff would die. Sven would die. But she would live. It wasn’t a life worth living, if he wasn’t there with her.          

 

She heard her sister’s voice in her head, calmly telling her to ignore what he’d said to her; what he’d done. How there was no way he’d kill Kristoff, even though there was no reason or hope to believe otherwise. The calm tone suddenly shifted to near begging as Anna’s hand pulled itself to the table. The silverware clattered to the table as the napkin beneath it was pulled free like in a magic trick. Her hand closed around the handle of the knife. Elsa’s voice suddenly cut out as Anna prepared to repeat her actions. There was nothing left. If she died now, she’d see Kristoff again without the burden of her fiance. She’d be reunited with Elsa and her parents.

 

 _Go on dear pet,_ That damned voice replaced that of her sisters. _Save me the trouble._

 

The blade pressed into the flesh of her wrist just above the scar of her last attempt. She ignored the pain as best she could as the blood began to flow, trickling down her wrist and hand to splatter on the ornate rug. She felt light headed, empty. How had all of this happened in less than ten minutes of conversation?

 

 _You really are that weak._ Hans chuckled condescendingly at her. _Can’t even handle your husband…_ He clicked his tongue. _You’re a failure. A fraud. A screw up._

 

The words echoed around her skull, bouncing off the walls of her mind and growing louder with each second passing. The knife gained speed as it ran out of skin to cut. A gaping wound gushed scarlet from Anna’s wrist, trails of blood flowing like rivers of hell along her draining skin. Tears clouded her vision. Hans’ voice continued to mock her. The princess wept into her skirts and let the blood flow. There was nothing to stop it or her fiancee now.

 

 _Oh Anna,_ Hans seemed to sneer at her from above. _If only there was somebody out there who loved you._

 

The knife clattered to the ground as her grip on the handle slackened and uncoiled like the muscles of a dead snake. She couldn’t see straight anymore, blur overcoming her line of sight. Anna felt a sensation of falling, her back connecting with the floor and her injury screaming in pain with a choked whimper escaping her lips. Black began to encroach her vision as suddenly, the sound of a door unlocking rung distantly in her ears. A horrified scream was the final thing she heard before succumbing to the emptiness of her death.

 

* * *

 

His wrists were chafed and burned, the indentations of the twine lengths coarse and thick on his wrists. They dug into the wounded skin with each movement or flinch, no matter how small. His head was hanging limply between his shoulders, blonde tresses falling in clumps over his sweat drenched forehead and eyes. His hands were pale and white, circulation cut from where they rested above him with his bindings doing their job. He took it as silent as he could, refusing to let any sound escape his mouth despite the horrific pain that was being inflicted. He wouldn’t give Hans the satisfaction of seeing him break.

 

Their secret was out; that much was clear. This sort of torture wouldn’t have been inflicted otherwise. Not because the prince was being fair, but because Anna would stand between them; act as a buffer from the colliding forces of the two headstrong bulls she called men. It wasn’t fair to believe Anna could stop everything, Kristoff knew that. It hadn’t taken long to figure out what Hans was in his cell for, and the fact that he was flanked by guards only proved the visit wasn't of a trivial matter. For a naive moment, Kristoff wondered if Hans was there to see him off and make sure he left before he did. But that hope died in his throat as the guards removed their swords and the prince gave him the order to move.

 

Not needing to be told twice, Kristoff complied and was led from his cell to a room that ran into the deeper part of the dungeons, the light of day a distant memory until reaching a place that made his blood drain. Pale light spilled in through a thin window on the wall, the gushing of the fjord barely audible through the thick stone walls. A post sat in the very center, and the ice cutter immediately wished for a way out of the situation.

 

He didn’t get one. In less than five minutes he was tied to the post and the guards left him alone with possibly the most dangerous man in the entire region with his wrists bound to a whipping post. Hans took no haste in breaking out the whip itself, and the rest of that time was spent choking on the pain as his back was shredded with the coils of leather. It felt as though his skin was being peeled away like one would peel a carrot. He took the first few lashes, his tongue as bloody as his back as he struggled to keep himself from breaking.

 

He was quickly losing his resolve and at this rate he knew Hans was not going to let up on him anytime soon. He counted the lashes at first but the pain quickly became too distracting. Kristoff knew he’d have to stop eventually but given the anger he was imbuing into this session, there was no telling when it would end. The guards were useless pawns obviously not sympathetic to him, and even hoping Anna would know what was happening or what else would happen was an incredibly distant one, at best.

 

“You could’ve been free without this, ice cutter.” He growled as the whip cracked through the air and struck his bloody flesh. Kristoff flinched visibly but remained silent. “But you had to cause trouble. And look where it’s gotten you.”

 

The whip struck again on an injured nerve and Kristoff threw his head back with a foul curse. “You’re enjoying this.” He seethed through gritted teeth. “I can tell.”

 

“Well why wouldn’t I be? It was one thing to do it to Anna,” His brown eyes widened as the whip came down again. But he didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel anything. “But to do it to you, the one with no form of worth? It’s much more fun to break what isn’t broken, iceman.” Hans grinned with satisfaction at the gory mess that was his prisoner. “And Anna is past broken.”

 

Kristoff felt his jaw clench and his teeth grind as the whip struck him again, tears suddenly leaving his eyes. He tensed under the strike of the leather, his fisted hands tightening. “You don’t know Anna.” He answered as his head shook slightly. “You don’t know what she’s capable of. When she finds out-” He was struck again and grunted weakly. “When she finds out, you’re going to pay with every lash you’ve done to the both of us.”

 

“I doubt that.” Hans mused condescendingly. “She’s barely capable of seeing you hurt, much less herself. She’s as spineless as you are. In the end, I’ll get exactly what I want. Anna isn’t as disposable, but regardless,” The ice cutter struggled to free his hands from the binding. “When you decide what to do, she’ll be crushed.”

 

Kristoff squeezed his eyes shut, the whip striking again, another scar added. “Deciding what,” He growled. “You’re not killing me?”

 

“Well that all depends on what you do after I go on the journey. Don’t mistake this as changing anything. I want my revenge on you, but I’m getting Arendelle either way. You still have the chance to go and leave Anna to me.”

 

“Don’t count on it.” The blonde growled, wishing he could say to Hans’ face rather than in the shadow of his hunched body.

 

“Really?” The whip lashed again as his knees dug into the stone floor while an injured groan escaping him. “Anna is worth this?” The tone wasn’t surprised. It was more mocking, and Kristoff hated it.

 

“She’s worth more than anything to me.” He answered between ragged breaths. “And if this is what it takes to keep her going, it’s something I’m more than willing to do.”

 

“Remember you’re on thin ice.” Hans growled with another lash. “By the time I’m through with you there won’t be anything for Anna to miss. I still don’t understand it,” His tone became disappointed, almost. “What can she see in a pungent ice cutter, enough to let him take her?”

 

Kristoff chuckled morosely. “Well I never tried to kill her, if that’s any comparison. You seem to think we’re equals-” His words suddenly became a scream as Hans mercilessly delivered strike after strike to his lower back, making the man writhe in pain.

 

“We’re not equals.” He snapped.

 

“T-then maybe you should stop comparing me to you. She doesn’t care _what_ we are. She cares about _who_ we are.” The ice cutter groaned. “And if you think killing me is going to make her love you then you’re as crazy as it gets.”

 

Hans’ frown curved into a cunning sneer. “I’m not crazy.” He shook his head. “I’m _determined._ ”

 

Kristoff huffed with sarcasm. “Right. I forgot there was a distinction between the two.” The whip cracked again with his agonized shout. Hans’ eyes glinted with sickening glee at his victim's misfortune.

 

“You don’t get to label me, _peasant_.” The prince nashed. “Nobody gets to. Not anymore. For once, I finally get to be on top and even Anna has no power to stop me. And you,” His voice wavered. “You’ll live for as long as you can stand it. I told Anna I wasn’t merciful. But one day, this hard resolve will crack and crumble. You’ll be pushed further and further to the brink,” Another lash. “Until finally, you just can’t take it anymore. Anna is so close,” He seemed to muse. “And you’ll be no harder to follow.”

 

Kristoff struggled against the binds with animalistic strength. He felt himself growing weaker, his muscles relaxing, his skin dampening. Beads of sweat saturated his forehead and hair. Anna had said being queen required sacrifices; even sacrifices as sacred as her own purity. They had less than two weeks to stop Hans from becoming king. Twelve days. Anna had twelve days. He had less. He felt the ground dropping from beneath his sore knees, a sense of weightlessness overcoming his shattered body. Blood loss. He didn’t recognize it. It had been so long, he hadn’t felt this sensation since he’d sliced his leg open on an icepick. Thankfully he’d gotten to the trolls with Sven, but there would be no healing this time. The lash of the leather strands and Hans’ grunts echoed weakly in his ears as his eyes shut from exhaust.

 

But the lashes suddenly stopped. His ears rung with the sound of a knocking door and hurried footsteps. A voice called into the cell for his highness, and Hans turned to the door.

 

“Your highness!” The door sprung open and a guard appeared, the gleam of the golden crocus pin a badge of superiority. “Something’s happened!”

 

“Well what is it?” Hans snipped at the man. “As you can see I’m quite busy.” He gestured a now bare hand to the mess that was Kristoff. The guard’s eyes didn’t follow, as they remained trained on the man of importance. The blonde squeezed his eyelids shut even tighter, reminding himself his torture was as far as he knew approved. No one would question his pain and suffering so long as Hans ruled.

 

“It’s Princess Anna, sire.” The captain exclaimed as his urgency suddenly became grave. “She’s dying.”

 

That was the last thing Kristoff heard before he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't looking up for Anna and Kristoff, but don't worry. It'll get better. If you have any ideas for the next chapter a comment will do. I hope to get the next chapter out here soon enough! Thank you all for reading!


	9. Blame

When Hans arrived at his fiances room, his pace and breath were quickened. The hallways were practically empty as he passed every step, knowing should there be any witnesses around, it would be better to look concerned given the matter of importance that dragged him away from vengeance on the bloody ice cutter who’d taken what was rightfully his to have. And yet despite the urgency and the show he put on, it was almost difficult to keep it up through the winding hallways and stairs as his feelings were anything but genuine. However, there was the smallest bit of worry buried in the darkest recesses of his twisted little mind that said she was actually dying and they knew he was somehow the cause of it. Hans left a mental note to care later. Nobody would take a woman's word over his; especially a broken little girl like Anna.

 

The captain of the guard had practically been in hysterics when coming down to the cell where horrible screams emanated. After the rather unfortunate news that Anna was dying, a series of horrifically beautiful fantasies ran through his head. She could’ve cracked her head on the floor. She could’ve eaten the chocolate the night before and succumbed to it. She could’ve choked on her own breath with how clumsy she was. But the captain dismissed those possibilities when asked to elaborate. He’d said she’d slit her wrist and was bleeding out.

 

It wasn’t exactly what the prince had had it mind, but it would do. After all, a moment of psychological weakness was a dream case to pass to the greedy and male-dominant council. If he was able to pass off Anna’s emotional well being as a way to excuse her from a trail, he could pass this attempt as a reason to simply give him the title of ruler and leave her as his little delusional wife. If she wasn’t fit to rule a kingdom, then they’d have no choice but to settle for the next best option.

 

As he reached the end of the long hallway where the princesses room was, the density of servants and few remaining dignitaries thickened. While the former queen’s eternal winter had passed through, most of the dignitaries left without another word and some without their own cargo and personal things. There were mumbles of sadness and a few of the housekeepers were crying even though there was yet to be any pronunciation of death. It seemed while Hans held the loyalty of these peasants, Anna seemed to hold their hearts in this brief moment. He pushed his way through the crowds and into the princess's bed chambers.

 

The mauveine curtains were open, the sunlight of a fresh day spilling in through the large gable in a manner Hans had never seen. It seemed that Anna’s depression was matching the darkness of her room these days. The furniture was pretty and untouched by anything including the light. Her winter cape was messily tossed over a comfortable looking chair, and a fire was burning strongly in the room despite the weather already being warm at this time of year. In the room already where two servants, one Hans recognized as Kai and the other he’d only occasionally seen about. She was dabbing a handkerchief to her wrinkled eyes as the head servant attempted to comfort her. The palace physician was sitting on the side of the bed, her eyes trained on the princess as she dipped a cloth into a basin and dabbed it along her arm. A scarlet red cut in her wrist was blooming with watery blood.

 

Hans held back a smile for the sake of his facade. There were witnesses in this room, and he couldn’t afford to look happy in the midst of a depressing atmosphere. As far as they all knew their relationship was still burning and for lack of a better word passionate, and Hans intended to keep it that way, satisfaction or not. His gloved fingers ran absentmindedly along his opposite wrist, delicately brushing the faint scars of his own troubles. It was satisfying in the moment to see such a vibrant spirit brought down by her own helplessness, a reflection of himself only less than five years prior to the entire fiasco that had occurred in the kingdom of Arendelle. He’d been in bed from injuries like that once, and felt a slight pang of jealousy. His fiancee in her time of need was surrounded by her entire staff who was practically mourning her even when the situation was anything but dire as the captain of the guard made it out to be. When he’d been found six hours after collapsing nobody thought to stay beside him or even heal him. Not the servants, not the palace doctor, not his parents and most certainly not his brothers. It didn’t feel fair that Anna was receiving the attention she’d said she never had received before. He also knew the unlikelihood of the princess dying from a cutting. There wasn’t enough blood leaving and in the clean environment of the palace infection was about as distant as the moon. The iceman however, he felt had a significantly higher chance of death considering he had an uncountable amount of bodily wounds in a very dirty dungeon. But then again, he was only a commoner.

 

His death would make Anna’s life all the easier to snuff out. But the prince if anything was a man of his word despite how unlikely it may have seemed. He would give the ice cutter his chance. Regardless of the choice he made, Hans knew he would be out of their lives be it by his hand or someone else's. So long as he was gone, Anna and Arendelle would be his to keep. And should he choose to stay behind in the smouldering wreckage, there would most certainly be more punishments where that came from.

 

“Is she alright?” He pushed his voice from where it rested in his throat. The servants looked at him with tiny, glazed eyes.

 

“Her majesty is a bit pale. She lost a lot of blood.” The physician said from her position on her knees at the royal’s bedside.

 

Hans strolled forward as urgently as he could pretend to be. “How serious is it?”

 

“Your majesty, I won’t lie, her majesty is lucky to still be with us. Had poor Gerda not found her when she had there’s no telling how much closer to her sister she’d be.”

 

It was close. It was also a close call. However false his concern for his fiance was, there was a tiny fear in the back of his head that had Anna died before their wedding he wouldn’t inherit the title of king. If there was one thing he’d had to go back on it was the lie that he and Anna had said their vows on her deathbed. Anna had managed to call his bluff that time, but thankfully nobody else listened beyond that one accusation as Hans had chosen to interrupt her next words by stating the wedding would be held in three weeks time. By then, she was too busy competing with the crowd's cheers and applause. But willing or not, the princess would marry him. While it was now a matter of convenience, Hans had an inkling one day she would grow to love him.

 

One day, but most likely not today.

 

“She will be alright, though?” He concluded with a bit of hope.

 

“Of course, given she’s nurtured and fed. I’m quite certain Gerda can see to that.” The palace physician cast a nod towards Gerda.

 

“You said that the wound was self inflicted.” Hans inquired.

 

“While it seems that way, I cannot be sure.” She shook her head slowly. “In all my years as a physician I’ve only dealt with sickness and the occasional open wound. The angle of the injury and lack of a second presence suggests that the princess did indeed harm herself.”

 

“But the question of why still remains.” The prince crossed his arms. A chilling silence passed through the room as everyone refused to offer a suggestion to the powerful man’s question.

 

“For that, I’m afraid you’ll need to ask the patient. I understand that you want answers, Prince Hans but until diagnosed with a clean bill of health, Princess Anna needs to recover.” She wrung the cloth into a second basin, the cloudy red liquid trickling into the pale bowl. The wound was beginning to scab over, the skin glistening from applied moisture and flushed pink from pressure.

 

Hans bit his lip and cast a glance towards one of the windows, the sparkling view of the fjord obstructed by only the faded reflection of himself. The harbor was quiet today, as it most likely had been for the duration of the dead queen’s life. Only a few giant ships sat by the stone docks, bobbing silently in the mid morning current. His ship was set to leave in less than an hour.

 

There was no question to it, really. Today was perhaps the ideal day to sail from harbor if he so chose to. Hans also had a schedule to keep. His brothers were expecting his arrival back any day now and by his count he was actually late to return. Not that they would miss him and vice versa of course but as before there was a certain giddiness in his shrunken heart akin to a child by the warmth of a hearth on Christmas morning. Gloating came to mind. And although Anna and Arendelle wasn’t his yet, there was a satisfying feeling that she and it would be in less than two weeks. He couldn’t risk staying if it meant a chance of Anna finding a loophole to end their relationship within the allotted time. No; the sooner this wedding happened, the better.

 

He sighed, and pressed a gloved hand to his brow, massaging it. “I suppose it will just have to wait until I return. Until then,” He turned to Kai and Gerda. “I want you both to make sure she stays in her place. Make sure she gets better. Should anything happen to her whilst I’m gone consider your employment here null and void.”

 

Gerda looked hurt by the stern threat while Kai sighed slightly, jaded at the attitude of the prince that he’d grown accustomed to. “Yes, your highness.” They answered in unison.

 

“Now,” He crossed his arms. “Physician, should you be complete with your healing, would it be to much trouble to request a moment alone with my bride?”

 

She turned to look at the prince. There was a fierce look of distrust beneath the cold, damp and burned out coals in her eyes. Her head swiveled back to the pale royal, the wound on her arm having scabbed over and the bleeding stopped. There was a begrudging tone to her mumble although the prince didn’t care to make her elaborate. With no option of refusal and the princess no longer in medical danger, her work as the palace doctor was complete. She pulled herself to her feet, collected the cloth, and walked from the room with Kai and Gerda following. Footsteps echoed in the hall and voices murmured prayers and thanks.

 

And so he was left alone with the princess, her body comatose and deep within the pink and buttercream fleece. Feeling worked its way to his lower half and a sickly mischievous grin curled up his lips. His little informant had been so kind as to tell him of what his fiance was doing to avoid an accident with her infidelity and more importantly with him.

 

There were no accidents in his life. Thirteen brothers and inattentive parents had robbed him of such excuses. Things were his fault, even things he didn’t know about. That was simply the way things were. He turned away from her for a moment, his gaze shifting to the windows. Soft movements dragged the mauveine veils over the windows. He felt pride in snuffing out the light to the room, his reflection leaving the glass of each and every window until the very last beam of golden sun was blocked away. The orange glow of the dying fire shimmered in his green eyes. The flames hissed menacingly with puffs of steam as the basin was emptied into the hearth. Hans peeled the silk of his gloves away from his pale, thin fingers. Finally, with the final light in the room dimming, the prince turned back to his princess.

 

There could be an accident this time. He’d taken Anna before. And Hans knew by now he worked best in the dark.

 

* * *

 

Her mouth was dry, a strand of hair strawberry blonde hair caught between her lips. The sheets caressed her naked body beneath its cover. No light filtered through her windows, and the fireplace sheltered weak cracks of glowing orange embers and dilute trails of white smoke. Her cloak remained thrown across the back of her chair, and the rest of her clothes remained strewn about the floor on one side of her bed. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was someone, a maid probably, seeing her on the floor.

 

Bleeding from a self inflicted cut on her wrist.

 

She sat up on the headboard, pillows bunched beneath the small of her back as her left arm drifted into view. A red line of dried blood followed the jagged cut. The other one, much smaller, was only an inch above and scarred, a dark purple line slicing across her wrist. A depressing thought surfaced in the princess as she surveyed the tokens of shame that now permanently graced her pale, freckled wrist. There was blame to be had for her actions, and what was worse Anna didn’t know who exactly the blame belonged to. Was Hans really to blame for her own ridiculous actions?

 

This was what she’d become. Princess Anna, the girl who cut herself out of desire to end the relatively little torment and abuse she’d faced.

 

Her back arched with a searing pain and she whimpered weakly, pulling herself from the headboard of her bed. Her free hand, once petting the injury on her wrist crawled to her shoulder. Angry purple bruises blushed scarlet to her touch with a blossom of pain that made her gnaw her cheek until coppery blood seeped to her tongue. The indent of his belt was vaguely imprinted to her shoulder still even after hours. Had the physician noticed it?

 

With a sarcastic huff, Anna dismissed the thought. Even if Martha had seen her injuries Hans had no doubt found out about them as well and smooth-talked his way out of any true blame. Once again, her back was to the wall, and she had nearly let Hans win, this time coming even closer.

 

“No,” She shook her head at the injuries. “Never again.” Her eyes shut and she forced herself to look away from her pain. She had too much to protect. She had her subjects. She had the servants. She had Kristoff.

 

_Kristoff._

 

She tore from her bed as fast as her legs could possibly carry her, the first dress she could find tightening to her shoulders as she left it half pulled over her head. Bare feet burned against the carpet and gleaming parquet. Fiery long hair wafted behind her like a burning bush. The servants she passed barely caught glimpses of their princess dashing through the halls like a mighty stallion unleashed to its herd. Her heart burned in its broken remains, embers twisting along the fragments of love she’d kept safe. It smouldered for the love she’d failed. The love she’d destroyed; ruined. There was no telling if he was even alive.

 

But Anna refused to give that thought even a moment's consideration. Blind hope hadn’t fueled her in weeks. She’d lost sight of herself through Hans’ words and actions. She’d lost that child-like innocence she’d held, the princess of Elsa’s coronation was dead now as the former was. But like a mighty phoenix she felt herself rising again. Not even the threat of her fiance would stop her now if there was even the tiniest chance her true prince still held a beating heart.

     

She tripped twice on the third flight of stairs. She stumbled on the blood sewn hall rug. Calls of confusion and awe echoed in her ears but she refused to slow even though her lungs screamed for air. Her legs lusted for a break. Her eyes glazed over with determination and before she knew it she was bursting through the dungeon door. Down another flight of steps. Tears brimmed at her eyelids with a final push to the door she’d travelled to almost more frequently than her elder sisters’. Silence greeted her and even over her own ragged breaths Anna hoped the silence was false; that Kristoff was passed out or something similar and waiting for her on the other side of his own door.

 

Her breath slowed, her pulse raced. Sweat ran down her lower back and soaked to the tight spots of the dress. Bare feet tingled on the near icy stone floor, and the silence persisted. Anna felt herself heaving, pushing at the door with ragged and sob induced breaths believing that she could somehow break the door to the ice cutters cell open with her bare hands and minimal strength.

 

But as the silence continued its relentless march, the princess felt herself growing weaker with each moment that passed in the empty dungeons. The cell was silent because it wasn’t occupied. Not even the drunkest slob at a filthy seaside tavern could sleep through the sounds on the other side of the door. Tears pooled at her blue pupils as her back pressed to the door. Her legs  began to folding like a flimsy tent. Her rear connected with the ground and her dress hiked slightly up the door. Emptiness awaited the other side of that door.

 

Suddenly she was dressed in black, two copper plaits dull in the light of the evening moon. The shadows of the dark world shined in her moonstone eyes limpid with tears; glazed with impending doom and emptiness. Her fifteen year old voice was hushed. They’d said two weeks at sea. Then three weeks, then four, then a meeting with the council, then Gerda delivering the news and her complete mental collapse. Her lonely world had grown ever so darker and was slowly collapsing around her. The funeral was scheduled, her eulogy delivered through chokes and silent sobbing.

 

Elsa had promised to attend. She was to be queen in their absence once she came of age. But with each hour on the grassy hill on which their parents graves rested slick, polished and gray, the princess began to lose hope. The sun had stretched high only to be slowly ingested by dark storm clouds. The first patter of raindrops joined her country’s tears and her own. She was alone then, forced to bury years of great memories in the muddy ground of the countryside.

 

And she was alone again now. Kristoff was nowhere to be found. Wherever he was, he may have been better off from the world she’d cast him to. Tears leaked from full blue eyes into her dress.

 

But suddenly a low groan echoed in the stone hall. Anna felt her head swiveling up in reaction to the sound. A thumb dragged a fold of her dress across her burning red cheek as she forced herself to her feet, bare toes stumbling along the hall and lithe fingers trailing the moss engorged stones. Shadows faded and darkened with every step she took, the pale light of the mid afternoon sun stretching across the walls even through the small windows of the dungeon. The princess felt herself halting, questioning if there was a voice to be had anywhere besides her own.

 

Another weak groan came from where she’d begun to walk. Her footsteps quickened. The voice belonged to someone. It couldn’t be in her head as Hans would’ve told her. There was no way it could’ve been an illusion. There was too much pain, too much weakness, too little emotion. No distinctions between fear and pride were held in that voice. _His_ voice.

 

A set of spiral steps shuffled under her small feet and for a horror stricken moment Anna almost considered turning back. There was no telling what remains laid in the darkened room just around the corner. There was no telling what pain he was in. There was no knowing if she could do anything other than watch his death like she had so many times in her worst nightmares. But these worries were dismissed quickly. If he was still alive by this point there was still hope; she told herself with a hand guiding her down the twisting dark steps, there was still hope for them yet. The ancient door creaked on its hinges, unlocked. Grey light hung in the room. Her face drained pale and she could hear her blood curdling scream echo in her throbbing ears. Heels deflated and she felt herself rocking backwards, hands flying to mouth to silence herself before she attracted any unwanted attention be it from Hans or anyone else. There was no way she would risk any of them finishing the job. There wasn’t much to complete.

 

Dried blood pooled around the center of the room. Kristoff lay slumped against a wooden post, splayed out and stomach down. Short golden hair spilled down his neck and his face was pressed to the dusty ground, mouth open lamely as if he didn’t have the strength to hold his jaw shut. His biceps and forearms were held in awkward positions like that of a broken doll, hands bound in lengths of fraying twine. Torn and bloodied flesh gleamed in the dull light, scarlet blood still dripping in some places and slowing in others. His back was a massive, open wound, rising and falling in ragged breaths.

 

All the princess could see was Elsa flashing before her eyes, weak and shuddering from a sword being driven through her back. He flinched with her scream, knuckles whitening. The blonde’s head turned slightly, lash marks blushing.

 

Anna felt sick, her stomach churning with nothing to pass while her knees quivered like jelly and finally buckled. Her knees scraped along the stone through her thin dress. Her hands flew to her bosom and neck, struggling to keep herself from a sobbing mess. She dry heaved, fingers clutching her jugular and eyes clouded with hot tears. But she didn’t let a single one drop.

 

She couldn’t bear to look at him. “I’m sorry,” She shook her head. “I’m so _so_ sorry,” She felt her softest voice crack.

 

“The sword,” His throat was hoarse. Anna blinked. “In the corner-- behind you.” Her eyes followed his instructions and immediately she felt like dying all over again. The sleek silver slade was still caked with dried blood. The worst part was she had so many disgusting ideas as to whom it could’ve belonged to and yet had no real way of knowing the truth even though she hardly wanted to. Elsa, Sven, Kristoff; everyone she held dear was wounded by him. By _her_.

 

A rough lump slid down her throat as willowy fingers wrapped around the hilt, cushioned by the thin lacquer. With both hands she struggled, the clouded red blade scraping messily and loudly across the stone floor. She was simply too weak and weary to wield it. For a pause of morbid disgust she pondered her next actions. White knuckles tightened around the hilt and blue eyes trembled. Her ice cutter was bleeding out, weak, dying.

 

Would it be worth ending this now, when she didn’t know his chances?

 

 _He wouldn’t feel anything._ The voice answered gravely. _It would be over with quickly._ A distant chuckle rung in her ears, dark and malicious as she fought to dismiss him and his words. _He’s not worth anything-- not like a prince. Not like_ me.

 

“No,” She shuddered. “Stop it.” She attempted weakly, arms breaking out in gooseflesh. His cold touch slithered up her leg like the slippery snake he was.

 

 _Not like you, Anna. You may be a princess, you may be queen,_ He continued vindictively. _But we both know that no title will ever hide what he is, what you are._

 

Tears began a slow march down her blossoming hot cheeks. “Leave me alone,” She begged, dry anger clawing at her throat. “You’ve taken enough from me,” Her eyes began to tremble with rage.

 

 _A fool._ Her knuckles whitened. _Go on, dear pet. Put the animal out of his misery._ Anna sucked in a breath and she heard Kristoff asking her something, his voice distant in her mind but etched with concern for her.

 

_For her._

 

Her eyes flashed and a ferocious growl leapt from her throat. She controlled the sword, the invisible reminder of her fiance crumbling like sand and scattering far away. Kristoff was injured, broken, hurt. But none of that mattered. She could never harm him even with the motive of freeing him. There was no world in which that was right, and more so in her case. Anna had sworn to herself she wouldn’t let Kristoff get hurt anymore. Killing him would do neither of them any form of justice. All it would do was ruin what they had and leave her with Hans. That option was obviously less preferable.

 

But it was also the fact that Kristoff had seen her through all of this. He’d held on for her sake and as far she knew her sake alone. She’d never really known what true love was and a hard, cold dose of reality had set the record straight. Love was sacrifice. Love was care. Love was selfless. It was also quite messy. He’d sacrificed so much for her and the princess knew with all he’d done, she could never replace him with anyone. Kristoff was more than what Hans said-- more than he was, and more than he ever would be. He was a prince to her. Her long awaited knight in shining armor… fur armor and riding a valiant reindeer steed. It was hardly the ideal, storybook romance she would’ve ever expected to find, but that didn’t matter anymore.

 

An ideal prince was one she’d thought to have found and dreamt of. Kristoff hardly lived or looked the part of a dashing, handsome prince. But looks in both their cases were if anything deceiving.

 

She crawled along the stone floor, sword in both confident hands. Around the grey shadows she crept, skinned knees burning through her skirt. Within the space of a minute she had the crusted sword ready.

 

“Kristoff, hold on.” She began. “Can you move your hands?” A moment passed and the blonde gave a weak tug at the slightly loosened rope, his calloused and burned hands safely out of the way of the blade. Lowering the sharpened end as carefully as she could, Anna began to press and saw against the ropes that bound Kristoff to the whipping post, the blade sawing quickly back and forth.

 

After a few minutes of sawing back and forth the first ropes split with a resounding and anticipated echo, the other coils loosening and Kristoff grunting. The princess felt herself silently apologizing with each split and pained grunt her iceman emitted. Tears pricked again at her eyes as she looked down at him, his head slumped limp between his shoulders. The bloody mess on his back was improved, darkness overtaking the massive wound and obvious scarring beginning its work like a miracle seamstress stitching a broken rag doll. She wanted to say this wasn’t her fault; it would’ve put her more at peace than anything in the world. But there was no denying she’d been part of it all. There was guilt to be felt, but that could wait.

 

“This is the one,” She mentioned to him, relaxing her grip on the sword slightly. “Are you…” She gulped down ‘alright’. “Ready?” Kristoff’s head shook.

 

“Can’t... move.” He managed. “It hurts too much.”

 

Anna held back a hiccup and blinked down at him, pain gushing between the both of them like a melting spring river. “We’ll get you to the trolls.” She concluded. “They’ll be able to fix this, I promise.”

 

There was doubt down in the shelter of his hair-- Anna knew there was. But Kristoff either wasn’t up to say anything or simply refrained from it to spare her hopes. Truthfully the princess couldn’t promise anything to Kristoff. Not anymore after all she’d caused and ruined. One day, she hoped she’d be able to confidently look him in his luscious brown eyes and say everything would be wonderful with another day like she would’ve always done before. But that, like taking blame would need to wait. He needed help more than sympathy. Bulda would be more than eager to offer that at less than a simple request.

 

The last binding snapped and fell to the ground like the limp body of a decapitated cobra, it’s ends fraying weakly like the final spasm of muscles. Kristoff slumped, his arms collapsing to the stone like flimsy columns. Bright red marks encircled his wrists where the rope had held him still. Anna hadn’t been prepared for this reaction. Not to say she’d been prepared for him to get up and start dancing around the dungeon. She’d at least expected something other than a complete shutdown.

 

“Come on,” She threw the sword aside and struggled to lift the ice cutter as he seethed in the pain caused by her motions. “Kristoff, please,” She grunted in near exhaustion.

 

Suddenly the blonde quivered with a slight burst of energy and with a gulp of air he picked himself up to his knees. His large arms wrapped around her in a silent, shaking embrace like a child reunited with his parents after a decade long journey across the sea. Anna tried her best to return the embrace without touching his injuries, forearms loosely hanging around his neck. His nose buried in the shelter of her hair. Her freckled cheek pressed to his bare, soft chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart within the rough exterior she’d come to cherish so much.

 

Helping Kristoff stand and limp his way along and out of the dungeon proved to be more of a challenge then Anna had expected. In the end she’d arranged him to simply lean on her, right arm wrapped around the appropriate shoulder; although it felt less like she was helping her lover and more like she was dragging a bear on her back. No guards flanked the closest exit to the stables and no servants wandered the halls. Only a tiny strawberry blonde princess with a half dead reindeer prince draped over her side shuffled quietly along the bright scarlet halls. With the open door came a rush of brisk wind. It occurred to Anna this had been the first time in weeks she’d been outside and the first time in weeks Kristoff had even seen the outside; the first time in weeks where he’d felt a golden light of the sun, the sting of the mountain air, the smell of pine and crocus blossoms. She could feel he was taking deeper breaths with every foot they stepped farther from the castle, like he was somehow magically healed by his natural home. Cobblestones still brushed underfoot, but it wasn’t long before they reached the royal stables.

 

The building was of a light wood, columns framing the doors and corners. Distant memories of Elsa’s coronation played over her vision. A handsome auburn smiled and laughed at her attempts at hide and seek behind those many rose emblazoned doors. Playful sweet nothings echoed through her mind and a shiver overtook her that was so violent she nearly dropped Kristoff. She felt herself slowing. It had been so real.

 

“Anna,” Kristoff grunted. “Why are you stopping,” She bit her lip.

 

“I’m sorry,” She finally said and kept moving, Kristoff limping alongside her. “Let’s keep going. We’re almost there. You’ll get to see Sven.”

His grip on her shoulder tensed and his fingers dug closer to the angry purple bruise. She winced, and Kristoff turned his head, hand pulling away instinctively and clasping to a nearby column. His weary eyes trained on her for a moment as the princess cleared her throat and kept walking forward to the nearest door, unlatching the first handle, then the second.

 

“Anna,” He found himself questioning. “What did he do to you?”

 

Her hand left the door, drifting along the painted wood and her head tilted towards the hay strewn ground, bare toes dark with mud. He heard her gulp. “There was a belt.” Although she refused to look at him, he knew her eyes had hardened. “And I was a fool.” She shook her head. “I wanted to believe what he said were empty threats-- but I was stupid enough to think he’d spare you anything.” She blinked. “After what he did to you I deserve it.”

 

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed. “Anna, come here.” He requested. She felt herself complying, shuffling along the mud. Finally after a moment she was in his shared shadow, refusing to look at him and face the guilt she had. Kristoff wouldn’t have missed it if it had been tied to a flake of Elsa’s snow.

 

“Look at me.” He continued. The princess blinked with another hiccup and tilted her head to be level with his chest. “ _Look_ at me.” He chided a bit harder, a calloused hand squeezing her good shoulder. “Please.” He finally asked, a hint of desperation finding its way to his voice. A tear rolled down her face as she forced herself to take in the man she’d hurt so much.               

 

His skin was pale with a blotch of rose at his nose and cheeks. Smudges of dirt were pressed to his chin and just below his left brow. His unkempt blonde hair fell in tresses around his face and a soft peach fuzz stubble climbed his chin. But through all the pain she’d witnessed and saw before her, his honeyed amber eyes still held untold concern, passion. They were dark enough she couldn’t see herself within. His voice was soft yet firm. “Don’t ever blame yourself for me, do you hear me?” His finger trailed her cheek, wiping the tear away. “Do you hear me?” He questioned again. The princess nodded.

 

“I’m sorry.” She answered in a cracked voice. “I can’t stop myself. After all you’ve suffered, I just can’t see you hurt again. I’m not strong enough.”

 

Kristoff looked unphased. “And who told you that?” Silence passed between them and the answer became rather obvious. “Don’t fool yourself, Anna. Don’t listen to anything he says.”

 

“Every time I try, someone else gets hurt.” She answered. “Look at yourself.” She gestured weakly.

 

He sighed. “I won’t lie to you.” He began. “This hasn’t been easy. But if this is what I have to take if it means you keep going, it’s well worth it. I made a deal with you, Anna. I promised to get you up and back from that mountain safely. My job isn’t done until you’re safe-- even if it means I have to take a whip.”

 

“I can’t let you take that, Kristoff. Nobody should ever have to.” She shook her head quickly, leaning into his chest.

 

“I know.” He answered. “But I’m not what’s important, Anna. What’s important is Arendelle; what’s important is _you_. Whatever happens to me, you’ll pull through. I know it.” He paused. “Because you’re strong, Anna. You just have to realize it yourself.” He let the words sink in for a moment until Anna finally nodded.

 

“Okay.” She nodded again, her voice cracking. “Let’s go. You need your family.” The ice cutter compiled and released her from his grip. She walked back over to the stable doors she’d unlocked. It wasn’t until she reached the door that a vile stench became known and made her hold back a gag. Fear suddenly mounted over her and for a brief moment she contemplated simply turning around and going back to the castle to find Martha. But instead, her fingers curled around the edge of the stable door, and pulled.

 

Light streamed in through the cracked open door. A distinct coppery scent was overshadowed by the powerful smell of rotting flesh. Blowflies and aphids whined softly in the air. Anna struggled to open her eyes, horrified of what she would find but knowing what it had to be and nothing else could convince her otherwise. Finally, bile rising in her throat, she opened her eyes. A reindeer lay against the wall, his legs splayed out. In the frame of the door’s light scarlet glistened along its chocolate brown fur. It’s pink tongue lolled out of its mouth. Blood saturated the once golden straw, the golden strands floating around the red lake like long, wiry canoes.

 

She heaved and vomited onto the wooden floor, footsteps echoing in her throbbing head and fear immediately rushing through her veins as she realized what Kristoff was about to see. Anna picked her legs up, forcing them to move and stop him from seeing what she’d already unfortunately seen. But she couldn’t move. All she could do was attempt keep herself from throwing up again as Kristoff’s bare feet padded into the stable. His reaction was as expected. The body was unmistakable, mighty antlers branching out like thick tree limbs. She heard a shout of a curse, and a mighty thump as the floor rattled from his weight. Tears fell once more to the ground.

  
Sven was dead.


	10. Stronger

He felt chills rattling through his bones, hands rotating between chest and lips. A puff of warm breath, a few moments into the air and clasped around the fur of his gatki, then back again. He’d been repeating the motion for what felt like hours. Kristoff couldn’t tell if it made a difference, but that didn’t mean he would stop. Stopping wouldn’t be in his best interests, and as far as he knew there was no easy alternative. Crystals of white ice pelted his small body as he pulled himself from the stable wall. Lights blinked in the distance behind the storms’ screaming winds, and smoke poured from the chimneys of homes he knew were filled with warmth, toys, and family. Those were the sort of things orphans like him dreamt of and yearned to possess all their lives and very few had their wishes granted. Kristoff wasn’t one of those lucky few, and had accepted it long before the other children at the group home had. He just didn’t think there was anyone out there for him; anyone that would love him like a mother or a father. There simply wasn’t enough goodness in the world.

 

And so he’d made his leave only a month or so prior, knowing the woman who ran it probably would be less than eager to search for him in the dead of December and much more relieved that there was one less mouth to feed on her already draining budget. There were no kids that would miss him, and to it worked both ways. Besides that, Kristoff felt there were bigger things for him than simply staring out a frost glazed window wishing some adult would see him and buy him like a child would passing a colorful display case. He wasn’t meant for an easy life-- growing up in a group home taught him oftentimes there was no easier option than simply going without a fire or food for the night. Whatever he wanted in the world he knew he’d have to work for it; not like the spoiled princesses of Arendelle who had everything handed to them on a silver platter.

 

The problem was, he had had no plan after escaping the hard cots and meager stew. He hadn’t thought of a trade, he had no money, and as far as anyone else knew no point. All he’d managed to walk away with was a length of red scarf and the clothes on his back. He’d nearly considered turning back multiple times, but dismissed it. His situation hadn’t exactly been ideal, but at least out in the world there was something. Within an hour he’d managed to fall asleep in a stable and woke up regretting his choice the next morning only for the owner to offer him a job.

 

It paid nearly decent, came with food, and let him get more acquainted with what was quickly becoming his favorite animal: reindeer. There were, however, downsides to it. The job didn’t come with board and his employer didn’t want him sleeping in the stables again, although there was merit to his reasons; which was another downside to it. Kristoff’s job was to ensure the stables were cleaned and although he performed his task fantastically it wasn’t enough for the inhabitants. Coupled with the man’s short temper Kristoff often found himself at his mercy on the same level as the reindeer, his employer not wanting him to get attached to the creatures or wind up sick by dozing in a place that was less than hygienic. Reindeer's often died regardless of the care Kristoff provided, and while he forced himself to keep a straight face with each brutal execution the boss provided to any reindeer not guaranteed the nights survival, a piece of him died every time. There was guilt to knowing more could’ve been done on his part.

 

Tonight had been no different, and he took his roll in silence, pressed against the wall in  desperation hoping some of the heat would reach him through the thin, wooden surface. He’d surely be disciplined if his boss found him the stables. But as bad as the backside of his hand was, it certainly sounded better than freezing to death outside in a blizzard.

 

The wooden door creaked on its hinges and with a second tug it slammed shut behind him. The warm light of a burning lamp cast glowing orange shadows around the walls. Wind whistled outside, snow pattering the windows almost like hail. Reindeer munched quietly on stale, dry hay, fresh excrement pungent in the air. He sighed through the scarf as he tied it around his waist. It wasn’t pleasant, but compared to the raging storm, this was a fine palace. He scanned the familiar faces of friends young and old. His eyes rested on one who was unfamiliar. It was barely a calf, small knobs peaking out behind his ears. Massive brown eyes gazed over the lip of the pens fence. A small, pink tongue slid out from between its lips and to its nose, wooden gate creaking as it showed enthusiasm towards the nearest human.

 

“... Hey little guy,” Kristoff tempted, easing a hand to the gates edge as the calf instantly began to lick the bare, cold fingers. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity, Kristoff let the creature continue until finally it nudged against his warmed hand with its head. The softest brown fur stroked against his palm and Kristoff was more than happy to oblige, running his hand up and down the calf's neck.

 

For a moment their eyes connected, and despite his better judgement, his other hand drifted to the latch on the gate. There hadn’t been a pregnant one anytime recently and the calf he was adored by had to have already been many moons old. Kristoff grinned despite the disheartening conclusion.

 

“You must be an orphan, huh?” He guessed, and the reindeer grunted and for a moment its head moved up and down-- almost as if it was nodding. Another idea came to his head.

 

“ _Yeah, It hasn’t been too bad though._ ” His voice swung an octave deeper. “ _At least here it’s warm and there’s plenty of carrots._ ”

 

He raised an eyebrow and the calf mirrored his face. It only took another five minutes to decide what they as a duo were going to do next.

 

* * *

 

 

It was an unseasonably cold day for mid August, the first signs of a to be harsh autumn edging its way along the fjords and forests of Arendelle. The town surrounding the castle was surprisingly silent, most staying inside for fear of dreary weather as dark clouds encroached the rippling seaside and surrounding north mountian. She felt the first drops of rain patter upon her thin dress, the cold breeze whipping through the fabric and chilling her arms and hands until the sensation of needles began to prickle down every nerve ending. The threat of a downpour seemed imminent, but with a growl of thunder the world only seemed to taunt her and make her worry further. Anna held the reigns as steady as she possibly could, the thin leather strips gripped in small fists that were bone white and ice cold. Knowing her horse depended on her constant direction to find the trolls, Anna had refused to separate her eyes from the path ahead, hoping to any force high above that she would be correct and fruitful in her journey; a life hanging precariously in the balance.

 

Taking a deep breath she whipped the reins again as her horse broke from it’s resting trot into a wild sprint, and looked down. Kristoff lay backside up, the gaping wound of the whipping covered with the one cloak she’d managed to dig out of the stableboys things. Unable to risk him getting an infection to to her desire to keep warm, she’d wrapped the unconscious ice cutter as tightly as she could and with great difficulty hoisted him onto the back of her horse. It had taken her far longer than she’d wanted but was grateful she was able to move him at all in both their physical conditions.

 

It was becoming much more clear to Anna in the light of the outside world how much Kristoff had been affected physically by his imprisonment in the castle even for two weeks. Before Hans had chosen to get involved she’d checked the guards posts, schedules and mealtimes, managing to worm her way into a time where she wouldn’t be noticed or caught visiting the accused man.  She’d seen the meals he’d gotten-- meager as they were and hardly what someone his size needed. It had been a welcome distraction and a boost to her confidence to plan a picnic in the only place she could ensure complete and utter privacy: in his jail cell. Their meal hadn’t even truly begun before she’d broken down from sheer guilt and fear. There was do doubt that afterward Kristoff had seen less and less of food when Hans found out about her visit and surely he hadn’t eaten at all after the prince’s punishments. He’d lost a noticeable amount of muscle mass. His skin had reached a dangerous level of pale-- from hunger or blood loss she didn’t know and didn’t care. What mattered was getting him to the trolls where he would be healed.

 

And where he would stay.

 

There would be no discussing it with Kristoff, Anna knew that. Even if he did wake up before she made her leave she knew she wouldn’t tell him he wouldn’t be reentering the nightmare she’d forced him to live through. If she was to ever be a ruler, she had to learn to say no without reconsidering or caving in. It would be easier to do it to someone she tolerated and loved rather than to choke down another attempt to her fiance. She would figure out her own situation later. At the moment she needed to bury her worries and petty problems for his sake. It was time to put his suffering to an end.

 

She looked along the rocky cliffs that grew ever steeper, thick sheets of rough stone arching towards the darkening skies. They were vaguely familiar as her horse galloped along the mossy ground. In her memory rested the last time she’d ventured this close to the valley, her bones mirroring the chills that had rattles through her from Queen Elsa’s magic. The sky had been awake, the stars and moon alite with shimmering colors of every spectrum. Long ago, her parents had taken her there to save her from the very same fate by separating her from her memories and the cause of them. Each time, she’d needed their aid and without a word they complied out of kindness. A heavy rock rolled in her stomach as she saw the first jet of steam erupt from the ground, the geyser of heat hissing in the cold air and fizzling to mist.

 

 _What am I going to say?_ She gulped as her horse slowed to a trot with her tugging on the reigns.

 

The trolls as far as she assumed had no inkling as to the result of her survival and the end of Elsa’s winter. As far as she knew, they had no idea as to what had transpired between herself, Hans, and most importantly Kristoff within the near two weeks that had passed since her and Kristoff’s kiss. Anna suddenly felt thankful she or Kristoff hadn’t voiced his connections to the trolls. Had it been made known to Hans there was something else to damage him there was no doubt in the princess's mind it, like Sven, would be destroyed.

 

She couldn’t fathom the disappointment they would feel, after they’d been so kind. It was a depressing enough concept that she nearly considered turning back to the palace and abandoning her plan. But Anna knew ignoring her guilt and hiding from it wouldn’t solve anyone’s problems. As much as she didn’t want to, there were some things that needed to be done for the good of everyone. What mattered was that she knew as much pain as this would cause the trolls, it was the right thing to do than to risk him passing and let them find out on their own accord. And what mattered was that Kristoff would be safe from Hans, and there was no chance of him finding out. Only herself and Kristoff knew of the trolls location and the only printed map to the valley was buried deep in her parents quarters which had yet to be disturbed by anyone. She knew the only surefire method of getting answers would be from her, and Anna knew nothing Hans did to her would make her tell. There wouldn’t be anything else to hurt. There would be no leverage.

 

There wouldn’t be anything left to lose that she would miss.

 

Her eyes began to scan the familiar grounds, tall thistle and field grass clustering in thick bunches at the roots of the path. Small pebbles and stones dotted the perimeter. Whether or not they were trolls Anna didn’t know. Her horses trotted gained a clapping echo as the dirt path suddenly became stone. From her vantage point the first lip of rock appeared, and the shape of the amphitheatre became much more clear.

 

The Valley of the Living Rock was eerily silent and strange to anyone who happened to stumble upon it without prior knowledge of it’s existence and purpose. It was a small valley of solid rock and stone, the gray surface carved into the ground a gradual stepping slope. Moss, roots and dirt strangled the many engorged cracks, vines of healthy, lush ivy crawling along entirety of the plaza. Various sizes of near identical looking rocks were scattered in clusters and clans around the area, patches of soft green moss draping over their rumbling bodies. While any other time Anna would’ve cheered that she found that valley on her own, the massive man by her lap reminded her of the urgency of the situation. Relinquishing the reins and reaching for his arm, she patted the bare flesh down to the wrist, and checked for a pulse, a heavy sigh of relief escaped her. Dismounting her horse, she looped the leather reins around his wrists, securing him to the horse just in case she happened to react badly to the trolls.

 

Walking down the amphitheatre to the center, her horse waiting with Kristoff at the edge, she gulped down her anxiety and slowed her breath. Looking around the rocks for any sign of moment, their distant rumbling and slight rocking giving the illusion of snoring. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to remember what Kristoff had done to wake them up that beautiful night.

 

She felt the stableboy’s large boots stomping into the stone, her shoulder aching as she clapped her small hands together. Picking up the speed and strength of her actions, she forced her voice out with another glance at Kristoff.

 

“Grand Pabbie?” She called into the valley. “Anyone! Please,” Her voice cracked. “We need help.” The echo carried far and wide and for a moment, silence greeted her.

 

But true to Kristoff’s methods, a the soft rumbling grew in intensity, and the spherical rocks began rolling towards the source of the sounds interrupting their afternoon nap. Anna glanced back at her horse who was braying nervously. Putting a hand to the air, she silenced it’s worries as the trolls rolled closer and swiveled to a halt at her feet. Her eyes then focused on the closest one that opened to her, and the painful feeling of recognition poked at her heart. Again, she gulped down the rising guilt as her hands drifted to her chest.

 

Anna didn’t even know her name, and yet all she could see was the troll with magenta crystals who’d pulled Kristoff down and offered to wash his clothes and fretted over his every movement. He’d called her mom. She’d been the one to set her human son up with a girl who’d happened to show up with him because she wanted nothing more than him to be happy and have companionship outside of them and Sven. She almost wished her horse had run off just so his mother wouldn’t have to see her pride and joy injured and dying right before her eyes. Watching one’s child die was something Anna never hoped she would experience herself, but given the circumstances there was no telling how far Hans would be willing to go.

 

 _You drank the tea, Anna._ She reminded herself. There was no chance of that horror coming anytime soon.

 

Her joyous smile instantly melted into concern as she took the princesses state in. Her jaw hung limply for only a moment before she spoke. “Your highness,” She waffled as the other trolls unrolled themselves. “What do you need?”

 

“Grand Pabbie,” She answered almost instantaneously. “And it’s not me.” Her head shook as urgency climbed her throat. “It’s Kristoff.”

 

Without a beat the motherly troll, followed by a second one whom Anna also recognized, rolled past the princess towards her horse as though sensing the injury before she could explain through thick, protective instincts. Unable to control her gaze, she turned could barely make out the whimpering and wailing of his mother from the center, her ears suddenly fuzzy as all she could hear was the whip of the leather across her shoulder. A tear fell from her cheek, but nothing more escaped. Instead she struggled to avoid the worried gazes of the hundred trolls that surrounded her. What worried Anna most was that they were painfully silent in the midst of her mourning, instead of questioning how or why when answering through her own bewilderment to these events would’ve made her feel much less angst than she wanted to.

 

It was too painful to hear, so she walked away. The many trolls parting like waves of the fjord or her movements, the importance of not her person but her troubles telling the mystical creatures that unlike their comrade, she needed not comforting, but solutions. Moving slowly, she sat on the nearest rock that hadn’t moved, and held her hands to her ears in hopes that her crying would cease. It pained her more than anything in the world to cause his own mother that sort of misery when all she wanted to do was save Kristoff, just like she would. Through her hands she heard her horses skittish neighs as the trolls undid the loop round his wrists and lowered his body from the horse, the cloak having no doubt been pulled off by them to get better access to the wound that had finally stopped bleeding.

 

But that wound was only physical. It only then occurred to Anna in her haste to get them there that she’d left the body unattended to when Sven deserved more than the proper burial for his noble deeds in her pursuits. There was no telling if Kristoff would ever recover from this. Sven had been his only friend for his entire life, before he’d even found family in the trolls. It had been him and his reindeer, against the whole world even as kids, as far as Anna could guess.  

 

Losing everything in one fell swoop… she didn’t even know what that felt like. Even in her pain there was Gerda. There was her posh life in the palace. She was royalty, and he was only a commoner. In the real world, status mattered, regardless of the goodness held within or the deeds performed. Hans had been right in saying nothing could change what he was. When she’d raided the pantry for chocolate shipped from who knew how far Kristoff had probably been scraping by with carrots or gruel with a reindeer calf to support. Something told her regardless of his earlier words, there would be blame for Sven’s murder. And someone deep in her subconscious warned her Kristoff would never want to go back with her after this. For all she knew, it was the final straw for him as well as any feeling he may have held for her.   

 

It was depressing to consider, but Anna couldn’t and wouldn’t hold it against him. How much more of this would need to happen for Kristoff to finally open his eyes and realize just what Hans was capable of beyond a whip and his cunning charm?

 

Anna understood threats from her hardest lesson. It disturbed her that Kristoff was willing to save her despite how romantic the notion was. There was a big difference between sacrifice and giving, and the princess could only see him taking more and more from the iceman. He was giving and giving for her until one day the last thing he could give for protection was the very breath he inhaled. Anna knew everything he’d done was for her, but there was a time that had to come where his selflessness for her sake needed to end before he truly lost his life to Hans.

 

Taking another deep breath, her eyes shot open with a clearing of a gravelly throat. Craning her head, recognition ricocheted through her skull as her head lowered to the King of the Trolls who seemed to the princess like a distant memory from only two weeks earlier. His eyes brimmed with concern and fear.

 

“Dear princess, I sense you’ve been through much.” He frowned at her. Anna forced herself to nod, a hand drifting to her mouth to hide her hiccuping.

 

“How much do you know?” She found herself asking, her blue eyes drifting to the ground.

 

The old troll sighed. “Enough to tell her majesty is no longer with us. Aside from that,” He finally focused on Anna. “I’m afraid you will need to elaborate the rest.”

 

With that statement her eyes widened and she felt herself shivering, the thought of even describing what had transpired in the past few days an overwhelming task to consider. Grand Pabbie realized her obvious discomfort and placed a large hand on her knee.

 

“I don’t expect you to tell us now, and should you never want to speak of it I understand.” A moment of silence passed them both before the troll spoke again. “Why don’t you come with me? There’s something I want to show you.”  

 

With that, Anna picked herself up, following Grand Pabbie as he walked out of the amphitheatre and towards an area of geysers, hot steam bursting forth from far below. The heated stone felt comforting through the thin workmens boots. As they walked farther from the valley, the sounds of the world grew over the mumbling of the trolls. The king seemed to be leading her along a trail of flat stepping stones, towards a strange structure built into what looked to be the face of a cave.

 

Grand Pabbie reached the curtain of fabric that enclosed the mouth of the cave from the rest of the valley, providing not so much shelter as much as privacy. Pulling it back, he gestured for Anna to follow him inside. Complying, she bent to fit beneath the gap in the curtain.

 

The cave was surprisingly light for it’s position and the weather outside. Through a most likely natural hole in the ceiling light poured through, a second length of fabric untacked from over it. Moss or various earthy colors covered the floor. For a brief moment Anna was brought back to his cell. The dark stone walls and mossy floor were eerie reminders of her brief sessions within it, but that was where the similarities ended. It was much taller and bigger overall than his cell, and there was a cozy atmosphere inside as though it was pleasantly sealed away from the rest of the world. Rawhide and furs were piled and scattered on the mossy ground, being of various animals from deer to wolves. There was a single, lumpy looking fabric pillow and numerous decent sized balls of soft looking moss. There were also neatly stacked articles of clothing in one corner, the same familiar winter gear he’d trekked up the north mountain and back in. A burlap bag of tools law half opened but decently cared for, most likely spares for his ice harvesting.

 

It became obvious what the caves purpose was to Anna, but she found herself asking the elderly troll anyway.

 

Pabbie smiled softly. “These were Kristoff’s quarters, growing up.”

 

“You mean he lived here all his life?” Anna glanced around the sparsely furnished yet pleasant cave.

 

“For most of it, yes. We came across Kristoff the very night your parents came to see us about her majesty. Bulda wanted to keep him and Sven, and seeing as Kristoff had no home, we took it upon ourselves to see he was feed, clothed, and had a place to sleep.” Pabbie held a hand over his glowing yellow crystals, as if they held long cherished memories.

 

Anna’s brow furrowed. “When you took away my memories.” She concluded. “You returned them recently?”

 

The troll king nodded. “It seemed appropriate after your sister’s passing. I assumed you’d want pleasant memories of her.”

 

Anna felt herself sitting down again on a flat rock, a sudden wave of nauseousness passing over her even though again, there was nothing to pass. A hand patted her stomach, attempting to soothe it. She looked at him again, now closer to his height.

 

“How did you know she was dead?” She pressed.

 

“Trolls are magical beings, your highness.” Pabbie explained. “Our magic is primarily that of the earth, and although our magic and your sisters magic were quite different in elements under control, there is an intimate connection between the powers we both possess. When the blizzard stopped we’d assumed her majesty had controlled herself for the moment, but shortly afterwards, we felt the connection cease.” He paused with a sigh. “It was only then that we assumed the worst.”  

 

A moment of fragile silence passed them both by. Anna was the one to break it. “Did you ever assume that would happen to her? Like because of what my parents did?”

 

He frowned. “Your parents fears weren’t underestimated, Anna. Elsa in her final state was dangerous. That being said, her magic was controllable like any magic is. The key to your survival was an act of true love, and love is a force powerful enough to wield any magic with. It is a shame her majesty was never able to realize it as you did.”

 

“Realize what?” Anna questioned lamely.

 

“That love is stronger than fear.” Pabbie concluded. “From what I’ve seen since you first came to us there is more fear within you than was ever shown from her majesty or your parents.” Anna bit her lip until suddenly the curtain was yanked open by Bulda who had something draped over her shoulder.

 

“Father, please,” She looked at him with such raw anxiety it was a wonder she could move. “We need your help. My baby--”  Her pupils shrunk as they landed on Anna. The troll king turned to face Bulda, and placed a cracked hand on her shoulder.

 

“I will go see to my grandson, Bulda.” He answered. “In the meantime calm yourself. I’m certain he will be fine.” She whispered something into his ear and he sighed, leading her outside the cave as though to talk with his daughter alone despite the fact that they were separated only by three feet and a barrier of thin fabric.

 

“Don’t question her.” He attempted to reply in a way so that the princess wouldn’t hear. “Anna had been through much. Expecting her to recount what has occurred can wait. For now, we must focus of the problem at hand, and find out why when they can both tell us so.”

 

In the light shadow she could see Bulda nodding, and gradually Grand Pabbie’s shadow disappeared from the behind the curtain of fabric. It was obvious she wanted answers, and despite the fact that Anna didn’t want to talk about any of the misery they’d endured, doing so felt owed. Bulda had raised Kristoff and most likely been the one foreseeing his quarters were cleaned. The clothes stacked in the corner was a token of her motherly love and affection. It was making her feel ever guiltier keeping what she deserved to know.

 

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything Bulda opened the curtain, a sad smile plastered onto her face. There was a pause as she entered.

 

“I-- um,” The motherly troll began. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

 

Anna blinked, unsure how to respond. Bulda removed what was around her shoulders, which was revealed to be a delicately woven cape of the greenest grass Anna had ever seen. In the pale sunlight that shone through the caves window the swirls of bluegrass and fresh scutch were beautiful hand crafted. There were even seasonal summer flowers that fringed the edge which matched the very ones Bulda herself wore. The princess suddenly recognized that it was the same cape she’d been draped in during the trolls attempt to marry her to Kristoff.

 

“I figured you were probably cold after riding all the way out here.” She continued, presenting the cape to Anna who graciously accepted it, draping the comfortable cover round her back and instantly feeling not only warmer but welcomed. Anna thanked her and another period of silence passed where Buda couldn’t free her gaze from the ground. Finally, she looked back to the princess.

 

“You look awfully pale, dear.” She commented. “Why don’t I get you some tea and something to eat? I mean it’s the least I can do.” Not wanting to refuse the sweet thing when she was obviously still hurt, Anna nodded and tried her best to do it with a thankful smile. A rumble in her stomach reminded her just how hungry she actually was. What was the last thing she’d eaten? Most of it had been lost after witnessing Sven, and even before she hadn’t eaten anything out of anxiety.

 

Moments later she returned with a bowl of seasonal berries, most of which Anna didn’t recognize; and a second bowl of water. Refusing to let her help even in the slightest, Bulda went to work brewing tea with what was obviously a heavy iron kettle and spent a decent amount of time searching Kristoff’s quarters for cups to use. Had she not been in such a rush to get Kristoff there, Anna probably would’ve thought about bringing provisions or even her winter cloak. But by now every troll in the valley could tell she’d come in prepared in hopes they could save Kristoff. She’d told him they could even though he was really the only person who could call her bluff. Why he didn’t do so, she understood-- but that was before he’d fainted and destroyed any predictability in their plans. Fate sure had a fantastic way of throwing a wrench into her life.

 

While Anna was sure everyone had problems, there was no amounting to what she’d had to see and endure. And yet there was a perfectly good cup of tea sitting before her and a fretful mother fussing over her like she was her own kin without any sort of motivation to do so and given the circumstances her behavior was slightly disturbing. They were in a cave in the most secret place in the entire country. There was nothing stopping her from voicing her opinions and no ears listening no matter how loudly she shouted. With the knowledge of her and Kristoff’s affair being made known to Hans, there was a lingering feeling of distrust towards Gerda. Whether or not she’d been responsible for his present knowledge of their process, she would have to find out. However there was a part of her that simply didn’t want to finger her longtime companion with such a high level of treason towards herself. She didn’t want to believe it, however possible it might’ve been. After all she’d been forced to lose, she didn’t want to believe anyone other than Hans was responsible for their unhappiness.

 

She’d already blamed herself for long enough and the scars of those wounds were still healing, if they ever truly would.

 

“Drink,” Bulda chided lightly as she nudged the steaming cup closer and Anna complied. Despite the fact that she always took sugar, it was still pleasant and made with care. Really, that was all she could’ve asked for and more than she would’ve for Bulda. There was something to her attitude that only made her more guilty, and Anna recognized the feeling rather quickly.

 

Denial-- throwing oneself into something else as a mere distraction to the real horrors outside the humming and rosey cheeks. She’d fooled herself with a picnic for Kristoff just so she’d have an excuse to keep herself away from Hans and to check up on him again. It pained her to look at the motherly troll as she’d tried to focus herself on Anna. While it was adorable and the princess hardly wished to burst her bubble, it wasn’t helping Kristoff that she tried to remain positive towards her and simply pretend that it would all work out.

 

If anything, Anna almost wanted to tell her the truth just to make sure she’d kept her timeline of events in check. There was so much to cover. Had Pabbie been able to stay this would’ve no doubt been easier, but Bulda was the one who wanted answers. She deserved to know what had transpired.  

 

Taking a handful of berries after sensing Bulda was about to try to get her to eat, Anna attempted to offer what she could in conversation. After careful trotting over sensitive words, she took a breath.

 

“How is he doing?” She asked in the most delicate way possible.

 

“Well,” She released a sad sigh. “He’s pretty beat up. Those wounds on his back, we’ve seen them before.” Anna suddenly couldn’t tell if Bulda wanted confirmation or if she simply was making a remark. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, though. Grand Pabbie is quite the healer with earth magic.” She finished with a forced and somewhat mirthless chuckle as Anna set her cup down, down drained.

 

“What do you want me to tell you?” She asked simply, draping her arm across her knees and waiting for an answer. Bulda blinked at her.

 

“I,” She paused, mouth a gape. “I don’t understand-”

 

“About this,” Anna tugged the sleeve of her dress down to reveal the ugly scars on her wrist to which Bulda showed visible concern but silence. “About Kristoff, about everything that’s happened. What do you want to know? Whatever it is, I can tell you. If it would make you feel any less… upset.”

 

There was another fragile pause in which her eyes fell to the floor. Anna bit her lip, wondering if she shouldn't have offered to do what she’d thought was the right thing. Finally, it was Bulda who broke the silence.

 

“Tell me what happened to Kristoff,” She began. “Please.” She tacked on quickly as if remembering her manners.

 

And so over the course of however long Anna could’ve guessed, she told Bulda the entire story and unfolding of events from the moment they’d ridden off from the Valley of the Living Rock on the first and final day of Queen Elsa’s eternal winter. She told her of Hans’ betrayal and of Kristoff’s valiant efforts to save her. She talked of Elsa’s death and of Kristoff’s imprisonment to which she gasped and mumbled something of a curse. She’d even stopped at one point simply to see if Bulda could take what happened before her deal with Hans. After that point his mother became much less responsive. By the point of Sven’s slaying, Anna had to check to see if Bulda was still there. Her jaw had been hanging and black pupils had shrunken to an impossible size. The mere concept of such an ordeal was enough to leave anyone not a direct witness to it in slight shock. It took a slow nod from her to confirm she knew every detail.

 

“I hadn’t thought to take anything with me,” She gestured weakly to the papery thin dress and large boots that weren’t hers. “I was just so worried for him that I couldn’t waste any time.”

 

“My dear,” Bulda reached a hand for the princesses. “What you have done is beyond what most would do for anyone’s sake. I want you to know that whatever happens, you can count on my gratitude for helping my son. Without you there’s no telling what that-- that _monster_ would be doing to him now.”

 

Gladly accepting the comforting gesture, Anna felt herself blushing with happiness for what felt like the first time in forever. It faded after a moment, despite knowing the deeds she’d done. “After all I’ve cost him,” She cast a glance towards that curtain. “It’s only fair that I try and set things right for him. I still just don’t know how I’m going to tell him.”

 

Bulda showed obvious anxiousness and despite the natural concern, there was a feeling of joy knowing she wasn’t alone in her thoughts and feelings. “Well,” She wavered. “Kristoff has always been strong during times like these. Give him a bit of space for right now, and maybe throw a little love his way. Show him there’s still hope.”

 

Anna released a dry, morose chuckle. “That’s what I’ve been trying to convince myself of all along. Now, I just don’t know where there’s happiness anymore. After all,” She glanced at her wrist. “Hans didn’t cause these, as much as I want to think he did.”

 

“Dear, there’s only so much bad in the world to stalk us. When it does, we shrink and wither. We don’t often make the right choices, like I’ve always said. When we’re mad, scared, stressed, we don’t know what there is at the end of the tunnel. But the dark days always eventually pass, good will win, and in the end we can only hope that things will get better. Trust me when I say you’ve gone above and beyond what I would’ve expected from anyone in your situation.”

 

The princess sighed. “As much as I try to see the hope in things, there’s always something blocking it. Before, I would always look for a way to turn things around, but now,” She shook her head. “It’s just not that simple anymore.”

 

Bulda echoed her sigh. “Sometimes the world isn’t as kind as we’d like it to be, Anna dear. And sometimes, it’s hard to look past what people say and do that stops you. Hans is a manipulative man, from what I can gather. He wants to make you fear him.”

 

“He’s tried to make me love him.” Anna admitted with a frown. What was scary was considering with her level of naivety there was no telling if she would have ever suspected a thing had the prince's plan gone accordingly. There was a fine line between the man she wanted to believe was in there and the monster she’d forced to awaken within his charming and sweet exterior.

 

“And that hasn’t worked, has it?” Bulda questioned in a manner that suggested there was no answer they didn’t already have.

 

“I can’t stand him.” She shook head head, fingers tightening around her forearms.

 

“It sounds to me like you can’t stand up to him, either.” Bulda concluded nonchalantly despite the fact that her remark wouldn’t have stung regardless of its timing or delivery, because it was the truth, plain and simple.

 

“You’re right.” Anna replied emptily, eyes focused of the patterns of moss that adorned her cape.

 

Bulda sighed again. “Has my boy been good to you?” She questioned.

 

 _That’s certainly the understatement of the year._ Anna thought with sarcasm. She nodded, forcing herself to meet her eyes with Kristoff’s mothers. “Of course.”

 

“Has he ever given you any words of advice?” Had the situation been even slightly less grim and depressing, Anna would’ve laughed at the advice he’d given her at first that seemed so hurtful but oh so witty now that she knew his humor. Contemplating what he’d always said to her throughout the visits and days, she recalled what he’d told her only hours before.

 

“He told me I’m strong.” She answered slowly. “But that I just don’t realize it.”

 

Bulda didn’t waste a beat of time. “And do you think he’s right?”

 

There was weight to that question, Anna could tell in her tone of voice and by the way she bored into her eyes searching for something that was lost far below like a diver scouting in the infinite deep ocean blue. Was she strong, after all Hans had taken from her? Was she strong enough to face him again? A cold shiver crawled down her spine from her shoulderblades, fingers drifting to the angry red bruise. The very thought of looking at him again made her feel physically wasted. That voice still kept her grounded where she was, unable to pry herself from its influence. There was too much fear for herself and Kristoff. Fear of uncertainty, fear of the future, fear of the man who’d ripped almost everything from what they held dear. Finally, knowing Bulda was expecting an answer, she forced what she could out.

 

“I don’t know.” Her voice cracked.

 

“Child, listen to me.” Bulda chided and Anna blinked. “Who got you up here from the castle alone without any assistance? And you know I’m not talking about the horse.”   

 

A beat passed. “I did.”

 

“And after what you’ve done to save his life and help him through this, you can still tell me you’re not strong? Strength doesn’t mean stone, princess. It means heart-- it means love, and knowing the sacrifices you’ve made not just for Arendelle, but for him?” She laughed confidently. “I don’t know what more reassurance you need.”

 

Anna swallowed, casting another glance towards the archway. “Grand Pabbie said that love is stronger than fear.” She replied quietly.

 

“It sure is.” Bulda nodded. “You know Kristoff was scared before.” The princess said nothing, but her wide stare was obviously a sign to the troll to continue with elaboration. She happily complied.

 

“When he first came to us he was scared of a man who would find him for stealing Sven, saying he only wanted a better chance for both of them. Do you know what I told him?” Anna shook her head. “Well at first, I scolded him... but then I told him if he loved Sven, that if that mean man ever did find him, that love for Sven would keep them from being separated because deep down, love is what drives us to do what we do. Without it, there’s nothing but a black, frozen heart.”    

 

Anna chuckled softly, the logic not lost on her and also at the thought of a grown Kristoff being scolded by a rock troll who was easily ten times smaller. Seeing Anna’s amusement brought a huge smile to her face. “Now,” She began. “Eat. I need to go check on my boy.”

 

The princess couldn’t keep the smile off her face even after Bulda left, and not even in amusement. She had something to follow and keep regardless of what awaited her back at the palace. Love was stronger than fear. Even if Sven was gone, she still had love. She would be there for Kristoff to pull him through this last time. Even if she had his love, there was no guarantee she would ever see him again. For the moment, the thought of staying crossed her mind. It would be a pleasant existence to simply live her live in the valley with Kristoff’s family, away from the troubles and ghosts of her past, in a place where Hans could never find or hurt her. But as much as she wanted to stay in the coziness of Kristoff’s quarters and sip the tea his mother made for her, eating the thimbleberries and blackberries that bled sweet promise onto her tongue, she had a life to live in the palace. She couldn’t abandon her people to Hans.

 

And while that thought held weight and truth, for once she forced it from her mind and enjoyed what she could before it could end and thrust her back into the world of hard knocks. But this time she would be ready for him, because love was stronger than fear. And the simple truth was that no matter who Hans pretended to be or told her what she was, the princess had the one thing he didn’t.

 

True love.   


	11. Grey Skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update after all these weeks... hopefully you didn't give up on me, did you?
> 
> Anyway, I suck at titles, as always, so hopefully you still enjoy the chapter; kudos, comment, all that. Thank you again for reading!

Grey clouds brewed in the harbor and Hans could barely keep himself content in his cabin aboard one of the finest ships in Arendelle: The _Alexandria_. It was a decorated marvel for the era, handcrafted with three different types of wood on the hull alone. It had been commissioned by the council shortly after the king and queens deaths as not only a memorial to their unfortunate water related disappearance but as a symbol that the monarchy of their kingdom could continue in the wake of such tragedies. The young prince was unable to shake the notion that something was amiss in his palace, and that somehow, something had happened before he’d left port. It had plagued him only minorly in the time he’d packed two chests’ worth of clothes and during his departure from the castle. He’d stepped onto the glorious vessel, not even knowing of it’s existence only to be educated of it’s history by the captain, and had quickly forgotten his troublesome worries, knowing Anna couldn’t have somehow made a full recovery with the supposed injuries and despite his lack of trust in Kai he assumed the portly man could at the very least keep her confined to her own bed until she was completely healed, despite him not wanting her to move from her bed for the entirety of his absence.

 

It was unrealistic, Hans was all too aware of that. But short of tying her up, he would have to hope he’d knocked enough sense into her.

 

His discontent with his current situation was somewhat justified. He’d left in such a hurry only because it would allow him time to plan the wedding and give his fiance all the opportunities in the world to brew in her pathetic fears. As for him leaving all together, he was a man of his word for the ice cutters sake. Though it would have seemed impossible and unlikely, Hans sympathized with the peasant if only slightly. From what he had listened to through Anna’s incessant babbling about the prisoner was that he had been alone all his life and for that the prince wondered for a brief moment what other connections there could be only to brush those questions away. He held nothing but contempt and anger towards the man who’d taken what was to be his.

 

He would’ve been exaggerating if he hadn’t felt a blow to his pride when Kai had informed him of that information, beneath the simmering rage. And worst of all, the prince knew that whether or not he got the princess romantically was if needed to be, optionable. The moment Anna said ‘I do,’ everything he wanted would be his and his alone. And also if needed be, the ‘I do’ didn’t need to be genuine. If the ice cutter remained, there was leverage to be had. And if he was wise enough to leave, Hans knew he was more than capable of convincing Anna to agree-- forcefully or willingly. It wouldn’t stop him at this point.

 

But now, sitting in a ship awaiting departure, things could definitely happen now that he wasn’t there to keep them right as he saw fit. Hans had never been one to wield power weakly, if at all on the rare occasions in his past that he did. So needless to say, he didn’t enjoy the prospect of disorder coming from anyplace in his domain. Even in his unshakable and sickening levels of confidence, angst and worry appeared only in the privacy of his mind, or in this case, his cabin. He didn’t expect Anna to disobey him whilst he was away, but even with what he’d drove the princess to do, there was no telling what resilience lay beneath the crippled and ruined surface.        

 

That was a trait his older brothers had often sought out to squash within him-- apparently pet peeves ran thickly through familial veins.

 

And Anna was the least of his problems. Several of the servants within the palace had shown unmistakeable loyalty to the ditzy princess despite her uselessness and his heroism. It was rather insulting to watch them grieve over the wasted girl like an immediate family member. It was a feeling Hans had never understood, and wanted to ignore. But something like that was hardly ignorable. Lack of loyalty led to protest. Protest led to defiance. Defiance led to…

 

He shivered, despite the cabin being uncomfortably warm. The last thing he wanted now was to be reminded of what he’d been forced to learn over and over.

 

However, the loyalty of mere staff could be dismissed as easily as they could as paid and hired staff. The people of Arendelle were still enraptured by the idea of a white knight in shining armor to save them just as Anna had once been. He would hold the iron fist over them all, knowing they would likely not question his ability to rule. After the implications of an eternal winter, a wedding was the best thing to get everyone’s mind off of it.

 

But still…

 

He sat on his bed, unwilling to let the rut in the bare oak floorboards grow any deeper. An unsettling rumble of not so distant thunder snapped him temporarily from his uneasiness. A knock sounded at the door to his cabin, and the prince held back a groan.

 

“Come in.” He ordered.

 

The portly man whom he recognized as the captain of the _Alexandria_ opened the door. Hans frowned from his place on the bed across from the other man, and crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.

 

“Your highness,” He bowed. “I assume you’ve heard the thunder outside?”

 

“Only just so.” The prince’s scowl deepened. “That doesn’t explain why we can’t sail out if it is that distant.”

 

“Actually,” He responded in a tone that suggested he didn’t wish to be the bearer of bad news. “The storm is approaching, your highness. If we were to sail anytime today we would be trapped in the midst of it. And what with the Northern Seas not having a particularly good reputation--”

 

“If we are delayed, so be it.” Hans cut him off sharper than a knife through hot butter. “In fact, sail back into harbor. There are some things I’d like to check up on before we depart.”

 

“Your highness are you sure--”

 

“Your _majesty_.” Hans growled. “And I am quite sure. I wish to see my fiance’s recovery or at least reassure myself she’s in good hands.”

 

 _And being obedient._ The prince thought with contempt. In fact, this storm was for the better anyway. It certainly wasn’t what he’d expected, but then again there were few surprises in his life that offered opportunity instead of fear.

 

After all, his princess needed to be in good hands… he couldn’t afford to take the chance that she might do something stupid like leave.

 

“Of course, you majesty.” The captain corrected himself despite knowing the prince was not worthy of such a high title. It occurred to him how certain the man seemed of everything, including his successful marriage to the last of the Arendelle line. “We will dock the ship momentarily.”

 

With that, he closed the door and left Hans alone in the blank quarters to await his rather abrupt return to the castle.

 

* * *

 

Only a few miles away deep in the fjord’s forests, Princess Anna finally broke her posture in Kristoff’s old quarters, and emerged from the darkness of the sizeable cave, a change of clothes for him in hand as she figured Bulda would want her son to have fresh laundry after nearly two weeks in a dungeon. She would be lying if she’d said she didn’t share an endless well of motherly concern for Kristoff with Bulda. Especially in the valley, the feeling seemed to leach to her without any other concerns to cloud it’s path.

 

It certainly wasn’t easy to keep Hans from her mind, even in such a peaceful and secluded setting, but against all odds it had been done. It also still wasn’t easy to wipe the guilt of Kristoff’s pain clean, but Bulda had certainly helped ease it.

 

One day, there would be thanks to truly give and pay, but that was for another time, and another place. Right now, all Anna could do was hope that her ice cutter was feeling a little better, and that Grand Pabbie could work his magic to heal him.

 

The sun was blotted and reduced to a single bright ball of ever present light that shone dimly through the clouds like a weak smile given at misfortune. The light had seemed so much more potent in Kristoff’s quarters, but it was still pleasant regardless. The silver lined clouds rolled slowly overhead, threatening to break every few seconds only to remain weaved in a thin sheet that seemed to stretch on forever and ever, past the peaks of the North Mountian.

 

On the fringes of the fjord, darkening skies met the subdued crystal blue currants with torrents of August rain. It hadn’t reached the city or the castle yet. For a brief moment Anna imagined Hans being miserable aboard whatever godforsaken ship he’d decided to lead on into a storm, but it took only a moment for her to shake the notion and tear her attention back to the valley.

 

She took timid steps along the pathway, a stack of fur lined clothes balanced in both arms. There was an unobstructed view of the valley from where she walked. The commotion from her arrival seemed to have died down, despite the tense whispers she could still hear even from a short distance. Kristoff was nowhere to be seen, and none of the trolls she recognized were there either. The rocky creatures mingled amongst one another, their mossy backs and glowing crystal necklaces a sight to behold for any newcomer and even for Anna, the intricacy of such a hidden world was still far beyond her understanding.

 

As she reached the edge of the grotto, the the trolls paused for a brief moment in their random activities and looked her over. She involuntarily blushed at the near thousand eyes trained on her being. It took only a moment for them to unanimously blink and continue what they were doing, but not before the ones in the center cleared a decent amount of space for her to walk through without interruption. The princess was a bit surprised at their indifference. It dawned on her that despite her expectations of them, the trolls didn’t seem to hold any sort of responsibility or grudge to her for Kristoff’s injuries.   

 

It was somewhat jarring, considering the mentality the thirteenth prince had left her with.

 

However, she took her walk through the small stone amphitheatre with as much regalness and pride as she could force to bubble to the surface of her blanched skin. Something inside told her she needed to move forward and attempt to be presentable. When she was queen slouching wouldn’t be accepted with open arms-- or so she forced herself to accept.

 

She hadn’t even stopped to consider where she was walking. The stone path into the trees domain spoke enough of a hint that wherever she was going, Kristoff would more than likely be there. As the princess walked into the forest, moss cape and all, she couldn’t help but feel as though a white stallion would ride out from somewhere infinite and her future would be held within the form of a beautiful stranger tall and fair. A true man worthy of her, worthy to her. And he laid only a stonesthrow away.

 

Deep, smooth notes wafted from ahead as Anna continued in, the leaves vibrating softly with the voice like grains of quivering sand in a powerful breeze. Browning leaves twirled and danced as the princess held to her cape, trying to understand the incomprehensible tongue the voice sang in. It took less and another second to realize the voices owner. It was probably some sort of troll language.

 

Finally, her feet brushed the edge of a slope in the stone ground. Massive cracks webbed beneath her oversized boots and she paused at the edge of the trees, watching a spectacle slowly unfold before her widening eyes. Her hand even snaked around the twigs of a reaching tree branch, as if the tension was too much to keep her at bay in the shadows of nature.

 

Grand Pabbie stood in the center of another plaza, slightly smaller and nearly identical to that of the one in the valley. Bulda and Cliff stood a few feet further back. Kristoff lay face down on a flat bed of lush moss that writhed slowly beneath him, almost in a sentient manner. The troll kings rumbling voice carried rhythm that seemed to make the earth quiver with reverence and the delicate ecosystem of the valley to come alive for the duration of his song. It was a powerful feeling that even made Anna brace herself with shivers down her spine, a rush of warmth overcoming her awe.

 

His wound was still there, unchanged in the basis of its size and shape. The lash marks were still swollen, and the skin was still peeled and shredded raw like a carrot, the skin bled dry. Bloodied moss clumps lay in a small pile at the edge of the circle, used to clean the wound before the healing could begin.

 

Suddenly, as the princess looked on, Pabbie ceased mid-note at if being snapped awake. His eyes widened considerably and a strange glow entered the black dots of his pupils. His rocky hands drifted slowly towards the sky and he stared up into the infinite gray blanket of the clouds. A moment paused before his voice sounded again, this time, in a booming frequency that nearly made Anna topple backwards, heart stopped.

 

He seemed to command a request, if such a thing were possible. He continued to stare at the heavens above like a weary farmhand pleading for even a small shower of life-giving rain. The three other souls watched with intent curiosity, although the trolls seemed to have a bit of worry and skepticism behind their awe and prays for success. It was almost as if they doubted the elderly trolls gifts to make the natural world quake at his presence.

 

Later in life, Anna knew she would have many questions about his magic. But what happened next left her without breath, much less questions.  

 

The troll king's eyes flashed a gleaming cerulean blue, becoming hollow spheres of blinding light. The entire plaza shook and dusty cracks widened and shut. Anna struggled to keep her balance in the presence of such powerful forces at work. The quivering moss exploded with vibration and suddenly the soft green tendrils began to move on their own accord, little green appendages durling out from the green mass. Their tiny arms reached and latched onto Kristoff’s body. They crawled towards the drained wound, and seemed to clutch the lifeless skin in their grasp. For a moment Anna felt sick. It looked as if they were prepared to tear the man in half.

 

But the tendrils stilled and hardened to a rigid form, holding the flesh exposed for the troll to see the extent of the injuries. Pabbie didn’t even blink at the sight of the lacerated muscles and skin. It was almost as if he was unaware of the mosses sudden liveliness. Then, the blue in his eyes steadily shifted to a pale, turquoise green. His hands drifted fluidly towards his grandsons back. A second glowing force extended from his hands, minute particles of unknown magic glimmering in the air. The green color of the magic matched only the most brilliant forest of evergreens, or perhaps even one of her mother's prized emeralds. The very essence of the earth seemed to reside within the magic the troll king utilized. The force reached the gaping wounds and didn’t hesitate. It flowed smoothly as a fresh spring brook. As the magic touched the flesh, the moss suddenly recoiled with a delicate hiss, disappearing back into the bed of green from whence it came.

 

The magic seeped into the red of his back, and almost instantly the skin began to shift. The glow steadily became brighter as the wounds healed themselves. Fresh grafts of pinkened skin grew under the increasingly blinding light. Anna was forced to look away despite not wanting to. She could tell even the trolls were prepared for this process and covered their eyes. Grand Pabbie, however, was now still as the rock his was comprised of. After a final flash, the magical process seemed to end, and the princess opened her eyes once more.

 

And yet, despite knowing what the outcome would be, she still felt surprised to see a perfectly healed Kristoff in the throes of what seemed to be a fitful sleep. The moss tendrils flipped him over softly so his healed back was cushioned on it’s softness. His grandfather then blinked from his stupor, the glow having receded like a washing tide from his eyes. His mouth hung open slightly aghast, as if surprised at something. His outstretched hands curled into fists, and with wonder he stared down at them, angst poorly hidden in his gaze. Then, he waved a hand over the blondes head, and Kristoff quickly grew still and silent, his chest rising and falling gradually.     

 

“Rest well, Kristoff.” He shook his head slowly at the sleeping ice cutter. Bulda walked over to her father and whispered something below audibility, and he nodded slowly.

 

“Princess,” He said quietly. “Come here.” He beckoned, a cold, dead stare penetrated her vantage point from the forests embrace.

 

Anna, completely unsure of what had just unfolded, stepped forward into the clearing, stepping up onto the raised platform, a respectable distance away from the troll king where he stood. Bulda rolled into her round, rock form, and around Anna towards the valley, Cliff following.

 

The two of them were alone, the only other soul sleeping peacefully. Even the telltale chirping of the summer birds quieted and the breeze stirred uneasily. Grand Pabbie beckoned again. Anna shuffled closer until she was at the bed of moss, and lowered herself to her knees, bowing slowly in respect for the magical monarch.

 

Grand Pabbie’s gaze softened, and Anna blushed with wide eyes, realizing what he must’ve witnessed. The milky hazes of Kristoff’s memory seemed to leave him speechless-- and the princess would’ve expected nothing less.

 

“I’m sorry.” Was all she could provide from her place before her lover. She didn’t know which person the apology was really directed.

 

“There is nothing to forgive.” Pabbie shook his head solemnly. “At least, not to me.”

 

Anna frowned at the ice cutter weakly. “I know.”

 

“I just don’t believe this.” He seemed resided to emptily denying the horrors they had both gone through. Apparently even in the wake of his assumptions they hadn’t been anywhere near as bad as what had truly transpired.

 

“Nobody does.” Anna responded. “And nobody ever will.”

 

“Your highness I-” He started to speak but the royal cut him off with a dampening stare and a raise palm.

 

“No.” She lowered her head. “I don’t want to dwell on it.” Suddenly, as one tear left her eye, a realization came over her. She focused on the old troll with deep focus, eyes attempting to bore deep within the stony exterior to whatever secrets he may have held. “Can you do it?”

 

Pabbie looked confused for a brief moment before understanding what she was asking of him. His arms crossed weakly, as if uncomfortable with answering. “I can.” He nodded. “However removing memories is not as simple with matured minds.”

 

“What do you mean?” Anna raised a strawberry blonde brow. “You managed to change my memories of Elsa when I was little.”

 

“When you were little.” Pabbie repeated. “You’ve grown so much within those years into a young woman. Manipulating a developed soul and mind with that many memories can be exceedingly risky. It is something so delicate that we never dare interfere with it.”

 

The princess blinked, half the concept lost to her. Pabbie frowned softly. “What I’m saying is, removing your memories of Hans would require much more manipulation than simply removing him from the picture. If you never remembered him at all, that would take into account you leaving on your journey to find her majesty, and you wouldn’t be able to comprehend her demise. You wouldn’t understand how Kristoff came to be part of your life. Hans has become so entwined to you that even removing one memory can radically alter your mental state. We’ve seen many go mad from such treatment. Mostly soldiers, wishing to be free of their memories aboard the navy’s ships.”

 

At this she went silent, wet eyes dropping to Kristoff and it looked for a brief moment that she would collapse onto him with sobbing, lost in the fact that she couldn’t forget Hans or him. But instead, she sucked in a deep breath, and dragged the sleeve of her moss cape along the bridge of nose and eyes. “I understand.” She nodded.

 

A low rumbling sound filtered through the trees and suddenly over a dozen rock trolls rolled into the clearing and unravelled. Bulda led the group and beckoned wildly to Kristoff. “My boy needs to rest!” She called in a loud voice that seemed counterproductive to her wishes.

 

Kristoff, however, didn’t seem at all affected by his mother’s orders and the trolls all lined up on the bed of moss, grasping the once sentient thing and carrying it smoothly out of the clearing in an almost stream-like manner. Anna found herself staring at such unified behavior. The group then disappeared into the forest, and the area fell silent once again.

 

“They’re taking him to his quarters, aren’t they?” She questioned without breaking her gaze from the clearing as if her lover still rested just beyond the trees grasp. She could tell Pabbie nodded. “Will he be alright, though?”

 

“With all hope, yes.” The troll nodded again. “I rarely use such powerful magic to heal, but Kristoff is much too important to us to take any chances.”

 

The princess’s hand slowly drifted to one of her messy braids, fiddling with the fragments strawberry blonde hairs at the fringed ends. She rarely played with her hair, and it only took a moment for her to stop herself. “Grand Pabbie,” She breathed, still unsure if she was allowed to call him that. “I need you to do me another favor.”

 

“Anything your majesty.” The old soul agreed, lips resting in a solemn frown.

 

She pushed a deep breath from her lungs. “I need you to take care of him for me.” A pause followed, indicating he wanted Anna to continue as if he somehow knew what she was to say next. “I want you to keep him safe and hidden. I’m not asking as a queen. I’m asking as myself. I can’t go back and force him to be a piece in Hans’ game. I can’t watch him get hurt again. Because of me,” She said this even though she didn’t truly believe it within. “Because of Hans, you’re the last thing in the world he cares about.”

 

Even though she couldn’t see his expression, it burned into her back like a focused beam of sunlight in a magnifying glass, shifting slowly up and down her turned back. “But your majesty, what about yourself?”

 

Anna didn’t respond. She couldn’t face the trolls words and the very real possibilities of the life that awaited her alone. With Hans. A cold sweat crawled down her spine and her shoulders quivered under gooseflesh. She gulped down her internal terror and turned her head slightly, eyes focusing on Grand Pabbie, whose arms were tucked and crossed within each other like a thick length of petrified, stoney ribbon.

 

Clearly expecting an answer and not receiving one, he continued. “What about Kristoff?”

 

Again, she didn’t want to acknowledge the answer to that question despite having a very bad idea of the outcomes. “How long will he be out for?” She rubbed her shoulder, the bruise of the belt still sore and swollen but hardly as bad to the touch.

 

“I cannot say.” The troll king’s tone seemed certain that he very well could give an estimate more accurate than anyone in the country, however he wouldn’t reveal this information just because. Anna knew he wouldn’t tell her because he was one step ahead of her desire to leave and jamming his rock hard foot in the door. Part of her hated him and admired him for it.

 

“And I can’t stay.” The princess argued almost half-heartedly. A small piece of her fought valiantly for her prolonged break from the darkness, the pain, the heartache. That side was quickly winning. “I need to get back to the castle before anyone knows I left.”

 

She could tell he’d raised an eyebrow. “You fiance is far off, I’m sure. If you aren’t going to see Kristoff again, it would be best for you both to at least say your goodbyes.”

 

But saying goodbye was the last thing she wanted to do. Saying goodbye meant leaving him behind, watching him stand far in the distance. Watching from her gilded cage each and every day of her marriage, knowing he was out there, safe and free from abuse and death. Safe from everything she would eventually go through. Safe from knowing the date of her death. Safe from watching it happen firsthand before joining her someplace happy where her family would embrace her for her efforts and try to ignore the suffering brought upon Arendelle. Saying goodbye would be too much for her to take; knowing they were finished with no loose ends. It was better to imagine that Kristoff, wherever he would end up, would still be in her heart deep in her subconscious. That they could still be something in the wake of her pain. It would leave her with something to go to sleep peacefully with at the end of the day. It would give her closure. It would give her everything she needed without endangering him any further.

 

And yet…

 

It wouldn’t be real. It would just be in her mind, waking up with him next to her, him fumbling and stumbling beside her as a king. It would be a fantasy-- even though she would gladly escape to it with every opportunity… it would be no substitute to him. To her valiant, pungent reindeer king.

 

She was walking forward, boots clumping softly to the ground as the left one shirked lazily from her dirty, blackened sole. The right one quickly followed. She drifted through the thin trunked trees, feet slowly picking up speed until she was jogging, running, sprinting. The weakened sunlight shined on her freckled skin as she broke through the barrier and darted towards the cave, the few geysers still bursting forth with hot steam.

 

Suddenly, a previously felt sense of anxiety got the better of her and she suddenly halted where she stood at the mouth of the cave, the thin and worn fabric the only thing separating her from her ice cutter. It had occurred to her that Kristoff may despise her for any number of things by this point in time. There was no telling what his reaction to her would be, what his reaction to anything would be. While it pained Anna that she couldn’t predict exactly who awaited her in that cave, there was no way of knowing other than going in to find out.   

 

Taking a laboured breath, she ducked and pushed the curtain aside, allowing the dreary light of the climaxing noon sun to form a silvery shadow around herself and the lip of the entryway. Kristoff was laid in the middle of his furs, rawhide tucked to his pectorals, and the moss pillow propped under his sandy blonde locks. He was snoring softly as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Slowing her pace and breath, the princess tiptoed along the stone floor, eyes darting between all the things on the floor that could give any sound to her position and wake him up. The sun hid behind the clouds again, and the sudden darkness made her freeze in her tracks before deciding to just sit herself down on the rock she’d chosen before. A few of the seasonal berries still sat uneaten next to her, and she took the opportunity to eat, stuffing the fruit into her mouth before realizing she was still quite ravenous.

 

Much to her chagrin, nothing else was available after the berries had been devoured, but she couldn’t complain. The last thing she wanted to do was think of what she didn’t have. And so, the princess contented herself by watching him sleep-- not at all quietly; his snores were almost like hers. She grinned at imagining what could be going on in his mind as he slept. Dreams of ice, of her, of Sven…

 

A chill ran through her and with a small sigh she wondered if anyone had noticed her disappearance. They wouldn’t have any clue where to find her, so far away. For the second time in the day it occurred to her how pleasant simply living her days in the Valley of the Living Rock would be, with all the family and love she never would’ve dreamed of in her lonely childhood. However, she stopped herself before giving the idea merit. That wasn’t to say she abandoned the prospect-- but as reality had come to remind her once again as it did all too often, it was her duty to see to her people’s needs, regardless of what Hans said or did.

 

She was snapped from her thoughts by a low groan, and a glow of joy overcome her as her cheeks blushed to a rosy red. She kept herself silent, not wanting to break the blonde from his sleep with any sounds. It was a rare form of glee that for once wasn’t subdued by any previous event or shadowed by the looming figure of her abuser; one that showed itself in all its glorious rays and one she hadn’t felt since the morning of the coronation.

 

Kristoff’s eyes cracked open and his heart instantly melted when he saw her face. That was the same kind of massive, almost cheesy grin he’d seen on her freckled face so many times through their journey up the North Mountian. It had become a rare and endangered sight in the wake of the stomach churning events. It was also extremely and contagious, almost begrudgingly so. Even before and even on the best days, he never smiled as wide as some people did. Those people, he often silently concluded, were only selling something false and empty from their lives. But her smile? It was the kind of genuine, glowing grin that simply left onlookers with a reflected mark of sunshine on their own faces. It was the kind that left a warm, overly fuzzy feeling in the darkest parts of one’s heart. He wanted to take her in his arms and wrap her in what warmth he could provide and tell her how great the world out there was.

 

“Hey feisty pants.” He grinned softly and Anna looked ready to pounce and smother him, and from her instantaneous reaction she very nearly did. However the joy hardened a bit as if she’d remembered he were a delicate porcelain doll that could be broken with one wrong touch.

 

However, the flash of concern passed and she simply didn’t care. From her seat she launched herself at her ice cutter and held him close as if he were the only thing grounding her to the world, safe with him by her side. She kissed him warmly on the lips, and he had no choice but to return it, cupping her heart-shaped head in his calloused hands. His finger brushed a strawberry blonde curl from her ear and her own hands bunched into his straw like locks, holding his head to hers as their foreheads pressed together. The kiss broke and they both opened their eyes, gazing longingly into their significant other’s souls. It felt like a deeper force bound them together and neither of them were in any mood to break it.

 

But then, the happy moment ended as Kristoff looked around the cave, familiarity overcoming his elation. His mind raced, realizing where he was. Both holds slackened, and Anna removed herself from his lap, scooting back a bit, worried at what could happen next, what he could say or do to her. She could hear him swallow, and his eyes widened before he covered his face, pressing both palms hard into his cheeks. Anna bit her lip and held her tongue, not wanting to risk setting him further off than he already was. He shook with quiet sobs that held echoed in the cave despite him trying to hide them. Again, all she wanted to do was ignore it, but nobody would let her.

 

“It wasn’t all a nightmare, was it?” He said after a moment, in a scared, foreign voice.

 

A lump welled in her throat, and she shook her head, seeing the brown of his eyes from over the sides of his hands. “Kristoff, I'm…” Her voice cracked, lost in an endless sea of sorrow.

 

“You’re sorry.” He huffed, focusing on her. “You’re _sorry._ ” He suddenly started laughing. “You hear that, Sven? Anna says she’s _sorry._ ” He mocked.

 

Instinctively, she shuffled further away. Whatever she had expected out of Kristoff, it certainly wasn’t this. She’d never seen this side of him before. It seemed almost like he was cracking, losing it. Losing Sven had pushed him over the edge and into insanity. Again, she was at a loss for words. Then a stark realization came over her. This was exactly what Hans had wanted him to do.

 

She blinked, attempting to hide her fear from the man she once saw comfort in. It wasn’t easy. “Kristoff, please, I’m-”

 

“ _Sorry._ ” He spat with a light, mirthless chuckle. His eyes gleamed with simmering rage. “It was always about blame, hmm?”

 

“Yes,” She forced herself to look him in the eyes, not willing to denying him the truth. “But Kristoff, you have to listen to me. This isn’t you.” He snorted, unimpressed. “This isn’t who I know.”

 

“You’re right, _princess._ ” He flaunted her title in a tone that made her blanche. “But who did you think you _were_ talking to?”

 

“Kristoff.” She snapped. “I was talking to you, Kristoff. Don’t you get it? This is exactly what Hans wanted you to do. Please,” Tears were slowly gathering in her eyes. “You know who really did this.”

 

A deathly cold pause surrounded the two of them, and the princess realized she wasn’t making any progress on the ice cutter. An idea entered her head, and tentatively, she pushed herself to her knees. She had to reach him before he did something he regretted.

 

“I don’t know, princess.” He spat her title again. It was rather dehumanizing but the humiliation missed it’s mark. Anna didn’t flinch. Instead, she shuffled forward. “Who brought him into the stables?”

 

“I did.” She admitted, shuffling closer.

 

He grinned menacingly in a manner that was so similar to Hans she nearly toppled backwards, but she held her shivering and trudged forward on both knees, the softness of the fur blankets a welcoming feeling to the cold, hard stone floor of the cave.

 

“And who was the one that killed him?” He questioned again, still and rigid as a post.

 

“Hans.” She blinked. “Hans killed him.”

 

“Did he now?” The ice cutter straightened his posture, cynical as the princess got closer.

 

“Yes.” Anna pressed, finally seeing the true darkness that overshadowed the honeyed brown of his eyes. It was almost demonic.

 

He shook his head, the confident grin falling into a hard, thin frown. “I don’t know the difference anymore.” She leaned in. Her lips brushed his cheek and suddenly she toppled back, smacking into the cold stone floor as her bruise screamed in pain. A whimper left her mouth and a hand raised to her cheek where he had slapped her clean across.

 

First there was shock. Tears rolled down her face as she stared with bleary eyes at the caves ceiling. For a moment, she couldn’t feel anything-- it was as if the world had dropped out from under her and left her floating helplessly in empty space. Then the sting of the abuse came back, and she was lame again, the pain a weak prick compared to what she realized.

 

As she tried to hold herself together, she heard his voice. There were questions, mirrored shock, and groveling. She could hear him scrambling across the furs over to her to try and help her. But the instant the head matched the voice, her eyes shrunk. Her fiance was staring at her, naked, intentions anything but noble with a disgustingly hungry look in his dark, hazel pupils. She sobbed and forced herself to shut her eyes. She knew this wasn’t real. Hans wasn’t with her. He couldn’t do anything to her so far away, in an isolated cave.

 

Whatever demon she’d awoken in Kristoff had seemed to melt away the instant he’d realized what he’d done. Had she not been so ruined she would’ve been relieved. For a moment, an ever so terrifying moment, the monster and man had melded into one, and it was not a pretty picture. For a single breath of air, she felt suffocated on the fact that Kristoff and Hans were all the same.

 

Kristoff was only a tiny, microscopic fraction of what Hans had been in one brash action, but he could’ve easily been pushed further down that path had she chosen to reason with him any further. How stupid was she to assume a kiss, even one of true love, could instantly mend his broken heart?

 

She curled herself into a weeping ball, terrified of what she’d almost created... What she’d almost lost. Kristoff didn’t come near, having moved back to where he was and gave Anna her space. For once, she didn’t want his comfort. All that Kristoff could do was stumble from his quarters, put on his pants, lean against the solid stone wall, and try to ignore the painful sounds of her crying as she had done for him.

  
He shook his head and the grey sky held his gaze. The blonde sighed emptily. “Sven,” He paused as if his reindeer stood by his side as always. “I really messed up today.”

 

He could barely hear a faint grunt for a response in the back of his mind.


End file.
